


Where I'm Meant to Be

by Jaeh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disney, Gen, Inspired by Enchanted (2007), John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Multi, Prince Castiel (Supernatural), brief mention of severe schizophrenia, mentions of bad parent!John Winchester (he's sick!), urban fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaeh/pseuds/Jaeh
Summary: Prince Castiel arrives on Earth and crashes into the arms of Dean Winchester. Separated from his brothers, he has to navigate this new world with only Dean’s generous help.Dean, on the other hand, has to figure out his budding feelings for a man who keeps on insisting that he was from another realm, whatever the hell the means, while making sure he’s still rooted in reality.As they determine the ways they fit and belong, the force that drove Castiel from his home waits in the wings for the perfect moment to strike.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Kali (Supernatural), Gabriel/Kali/Rowena MacLeod, Gabriel/Rowena MacLeod
Comments: 27
Kudos: 76
Collections: Perfect Pair Bang 2020 (Official)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aceriee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aceriee/gifts).



> Thank you to Aceriee for being a great partner during this bang! She has great ideas for our fic and her comic is _amazing_ check it out here: [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23913136) [tumblr](https://missaceriee.tumblr.com/tagged/Ppb20wiamtb) Please give her your love!
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful alpha/beta/ thevorpalsword <3 Also, to my friends, sprint buddies, and listeners: iCeDreams, GuardianKnight11/NikkiSage, InvictaAnimi, PieDarling, Hectatess! 
> 
> This fic wasn't the easiest to write. It was a labor of love and it makes me so happy that I finished it! I hope you guys enjoy.

Castiel ran. 

He stumbled into the dark wood, hands up to protect his face from the branches in his path. He could hear Luca’s wings flap above him and the clinking of Gabriel's armor in front of him. He glanced back, and saw an eerie red glow slowly enveloping the forest behind them.

He was ready. His wrist itched, his blade  _ Yolcham _ eager to appear and vanquish the foe coming after them even as he held his sword. Every inch of Castiel told him to stop and face their opponent, but he wasn't here for glory. He was here to protect the kingdom from danger, and if the princes needed to act as bait so the kingdom would be safe, then so be it. 

In front of him he heard someone squawk, and there was a sound of metal crashing. 

"Gabriel?" Castiel screamed, and he happened upon his brother after a few more steps. "Are you hurt?"

"No, just embarrassed," Gabriel said. Castiel watched his brother wince as he sat up. "This is why I never liked going into the forest. Too many trees in the way." 

There was a flurry of feathers, and a bird dropped to the ground before them. It raised its wings, then in a flash, Luca, their brother, appeared. "We need to make haste. Get up, brothers. We need to go before she-"

"Too late." Castiel said. The glow had almost enveloped the space around them, lighting the darkness like a red-tinged morning. "She is here." Castiel let  _ Yolcham _ appear in his hand, and stood in front of his brothers, his mundane and magical swords both at the ready. 

Someone pulled Castiel's hand before he could step forward, and Castiel turned to find Gabriel's pleading face. "Don't hurt her, Cassie, please."

"She won't feel a thing, I promise," Castiel said, and Gabriel shut his eyes. 

"No, Castiel," Luca said, stopping Castiel. "I will end this. You two need to preserve yourselves in order to keep our line going, to protect the kingdom." He opened his hand, and revealed an ornate medallion lined with runes and a shining sphere in the middle. Luca raised the medallion and a disc of colors appeared out of thin air. A shriek came from the brightest part of the red glow behind them. "Go, Castiel, and take our brother with you. I will return for you, if I survive, I swear."

"But Luca-"

"You're not the only one capable of  _ killing, _ Castiel," Luca said with a grim smile, and he faced the menace coming at them. His limbs elongated into massive, leathery wings, and Luca grew into a giant dragon, easily five times Castiel's height. He roared at his brothers, and Gabriel turned to Castiel. 

"He told us to go, Cassie," Gabriel said. "Let's go!"

Castiel nodded, and with his brother, jumped into the unknown. 


	2. Prologue (ART) by Aceriee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aceriee's wonderful comic for the Prologue!


	3. Chapter 3

Eight counts until the guitar riff exploded from the speakers, and Dean tapped all of them out on his steering wheel. Dean honked along to the guitar riffs and screamed to the lyrics, thankful that he bypassed his usual route home for a night drive down peaceful, deserted roads in the bright moonlight. He was familiar with this neck of the woods, and people rarely travel this way, which made it perfect for Dean to blast his music in the car and ignore the world for a while. Just him, his baby, and his music. 

He had been commissioned to restore a beautiful set of antique shelves, and he first needed to see if the shelves had to be transported back to his workshop, or if it was too delicate to move and he would need to go on-site. As much as he loved making his own pieces, there was something special about reworking a piece of history into its original form.

He considered the tools that he would need if he was to build on-site, and in the process dropped one of his cassette tapes on the floor of the passenger’s seat. He looked at his rearview mirror and surveyed the road in front of him, and satisfied that there was no one coming, reached down and felt around for the tape.

When Dean popped back up, there was a man crouched slightly in the middle of the road. Dean immediately slammed on the breaks, and honked his horn as loud as he could. 

The man turned and straightened, bathed in the Impala’s bright lights. What seemed like a cape billowed behind him, and honest-to-god armor glinted in the yellow light. As the Impala abruptly stopped, the man in front of him raised a sword- of course, he had a  _ sword _ \- ran up the hood of the Impala, and stabbed into the windshield in one, swift motion.

Dean screamed. 

The man then pulled the sword out and kicked the shattered pieces of the Impala’s windshield out of the way, reached in, and attempted to drag Dean out by the shoulders.

Dean resisted. He kicked and screamed as the man dragged him out, and Dean was thankful for his thick leather jacket, as he was convinced it was the only thing that protected him from the jagged glass. 

Now, Dean was no slouch. Even if he wasn’t one to exercise often, his job keeps him pretty fit as he has to carry heavy pieces of wood and hammer metal on a daily basis. But the man, despite his heavy armor, had this amazing strength to him, and Dean was dropped on to the gravel unceremoniously. 

“I have gripped you tight and pulled you from perdition,” the man said, before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed on top of Dean. 

Dean grunted, and pushed the heavy man off. He rolled the armored man over, and saw in the bright light that blood dripped from a superficial cut on his forehead. 

Dean debated whether this was his problem or not, especially since this lunatic had just driven a sword into his windshield.

Dean decided he couldn’t just leave an injured man in the middle of the road. 

He sighed, and grabbed the man under the arms, and heaved. 

The term  _ deadweight _ didn't even cover how heavy the man was. There was no way he could sling the man over his shoulder, and so just dragged him and hoped that no stones would slip through the man’s armor. He swore as he pushed the man, armor and all, up on the rear passenger seat, checking multiple times to make sure the leather did get damaged.

When Dean managed to finagle the man into the backseat, he climbed back in. He drove slowly and gingerly through the empty street, careful not to jostle the man behind him. He made his way to the nearest highway, with the full intention of driving to a hospital and leaving the man there. Surely they’d take care of him, and maybe figure out why in the world there was a Disney-LARP reject running through the woods at night and stabbing through people’s windshields.

It was freezing, and Dean zipped up his leather jacket against the wind, grumbling as he did so. He just needed to get to the town center without any other incidents. He should probably call his uncle at some point, just to give him a heads up about what happened. Dean wasn’t interested in pressing charges against the man, but maybe he could get some insurance payout. He wondered if his car getting attacked by a deranged man using a sword was covered.

Metal clinked, and Dean looked through his rearview mirror. 

The man blinked awake, and was now looking around wildly. He tried to grab his sword, and his hand twitched in this odd way and Dean was sure he saw a smaller blade appear for a split second out of nowhere. 

“Calm down man, I’m taking you to a hospital, you’ll be fine,” said Dean, in the most soothing voice he could manage. “We’ll be there in less than five minutes and you’ll get the help you need.”

“Where am I? What is this?” The man demanded. His voice sounded like he gargled gravel from the back road they’d just left, but still was somehow soothing. “ _ How are we moving? _ ”

The man’s eyes were wild, and he kicked through the seats. He was trying to pick up his sword in the confined space (making Dean regret not putting it in the trunk, as he had wanted to initially) and kept trying to push through the windows to get out. 

“Calm down! You’re in my car, the same car you fucking  _ stabbed through _ -”

“The foul, metal beast with glowing eyes? I am in the depths of its belly! We must - I must get out, I -” The man had found the door handle with all his fumbling, and had thrown it open. He stumbled out onto the pavement.

Dean swore, and stopped the car in the middle of the street. He chased after the man, who had run through someone’s backyard and back into the forest. “Dude, what the f- where the hell do you think you’re going? You could have just said you didn’t want to go to the damn hospital!” He had just about caught up when the other man tripped, and fell down just before the edge of the woods, and stopped moving. Dean jogged forward, noting a child’s bicycle lying in the way, and turned the man over. He was breathing, but was definitely out for the count.

He looked around, and realized that he was closer to his house than the town center. Maybe he should just bring the man there and let him rest for a while, and just take him to the police or to the hospital in the morning. 

Painstakingly, he dragged the man back to the car and decided that he needed to go to the gym or bench press a few logs to be in better shape. Getting to his house was uneventful, until Dean realized he would need to drag the armored man up the porch steps somehow.

Well fuck. This man was going to  _ hurt _ in the morning, and after Dean considered that it was sufficient payback for fucking up his baby, he got to work. An arm under each armpit should do, and Dean heaved. 

After sufficient effort, Dean was able to get him into the house and onto the couch.

Now what?

Maybe Dean didn’t think this one through as much as he should have. He watched the man he’d dumped on the sofa breathe for a minute, in his unconscious state.

What the hell was he meant to do with him?

His uncle would know. He wasn’t the police captain just because he looked smart. He grabbed his phone and called in.

“So, Uncle Bobby, in theory, if a man suddenly appears from the woods, attacks my car, passes out, is obviously wounded - not by me, but was already somehow wounded - and is probably definitely crazy, what would you do?”

There was silence on the other line, until Bobby grunted into the phone. “You woke me up midnight to ask me a hypothetical question? Are you drunk, boy?”   
  
“Nothing - I’m not drunk, Bobby, I’m just curious?” Dean said, voice climbing in pitch.

“Did something happen?”

“No! No. No, nothing happened. Just yanno, what if. Had a dream or something,” said Dean, staring at the absolutely real man with seemingly authentic armor and weapons lying on his couch. “Everything’s fine, just humor me.”

Bobby sighed. “If he attacked your car, that’s at least vandalism. If you were  _ inside _ when it happened, it might be considered assault. If he’s wounded and ends up in a hospital and he’s as unstable as you say he is, he’d be cuffed to his bed in the psych ward while they tend to his injuries and figure out what to do with him, probably still end up eventually in jail.”

Dean bit his lip in thought. It all sounded way more complicated than he was able to handle tonight, among other reasons. Better not contact the police (aside from Bobby) or the hospital. “Ah. Thanks Uncle Bobby, you’re a great help.”

“Don’t call me again unless someone’s in actual danger, idjit,” Bobby said, and hung up before Dean could even say anything else.

He surveyed the sleeping man in front of him again. Based on what his uncle had said, either way, the man seemed like he was going to end locked up somehow, and until Dean understood what was happening, it didn’t feel right to just leave the man. 

Dean decided that resting couldn’t be comfortable in metal clothing, and so he began with the man’s boots. He unfastened the heavy breastplate, marvelling at the construction and  _ wear and tear _ fabricated on it. It looked very real, like it was used on a daily basis. It was a chore to undress someone who was entirely passed out, especially in armor, but everything the man was wearing was fascinating. He removed the chainmail gauntlets, the mail chausses and shirt, and slung them over a chair. The man wore an actual gambeson under the armor, and Dean was flabbergasted at the attention to detail. Defensive jacket removed, he discovered that the man was wearing well used hose and breeches, with a linen shirt. Everything seemed to be in proper authentic, almost medieval garb.

Maybe the man was part of a reenacting company?

Dean frowned at the man, realizing that whatever he wore wasn’t suitable for the 45 degree night. He made the decision to leave the man alone for a bit to get some thick sweatpants and a soft shirt.

He had been gone for only a few seconds when Dean heard a panicked yelp and a thud. Dean immediately went back to the living room. “You ok- dude, put that away, you’re safe here.” 

The man had retrieved his sword from the coffee table, and had it raised in a defensive stance. “I am Prince Castiel of Aetherys, Lord of the Emerald Forest, Duke of Partioch, Knight of the Order of Seraphim. What land is this?”

“Kansas, USA. I’m Dean, and would you just put the fucking sword down, you’d take an eye out with that," said Dean in a low, calming voice. He made sure he didn't extend any limbs forward, concerned with what this man can potentially do. He sounded delusional, and Dean was immediately on his guard.

Castiel stared at Dean for a while, and Dean gulped. He wasn't sure what to do, but then Castiel slowly lowered his sword and Dean exhaled. He must have been convinced that Dean was not a threat. “I’m well-trained in the act of combat, only second to the best after my brother, Gabriel. I will not poke anyone’s eye out if I don’t wish to.”

“It’s an expression - where did you say you’re from?” Dean asked again.

“Aetherys.”

“Where the fuck is that," Dean murmured to himself. "Maybe it's one of those closed communities.” He spoke louder. "Sorry, where again?"

“The land of Aetherys - just beyond the borders of Caosga, east of the Shining Sea,” Castiel supplied. “I believe the medallion may have transported me to a different realm. This place is quite different," Castiel frowned. He sheathed his sword and placed it on the coffee table. Then he glanced around, and moved towards the TV with a puzzled expression, like he's never actually seen one before. He suddenly whirled, and looked at Dean. "Ah, by the way, your metallic steed - I realize now that it must have been trained as it had stopped before it hit me. I hope that I have not vanquished it and it can be healed?”

“Metallic st…?" Dean trailed off, then realized what Castiel was talking about. "Car! My car. I’ll have to get it fixed but I can take care of that," Dean frowned at Castiel. "Look man, you seem completely out of it. Whatever you're saying doesn't make any sense."

"I assure you, aside from a massive headache, I'm fine," Castiel said. His stomach gurgled, and he looked at Dean. "I might also be a bit hungry. Leaping through different realms worked up my appetite.”

“I think I have some leftover pizza in the fridge,” Dean said. He walked to the kitchen, aware that Castiel was now following him, and rummaged through the fridge. Castiel leaned over his shoulder, and Dean almost jumped at the contact.

"Personal space, man!"

“My apologies," Castiel started, but then trailed off. He stepped away from Dean, and walked to the refrigerator. "What is this contraption?" He shoved an arm into the fridge, and drew back immediately. Dean's gotta hand it to him, he was very convincing, like he had never actually seen a refrigerator before.

Maybe he was suffering from some kind of brain injury and was convinced that he was from another world?

It seemed so farfetched, very soap-operatic, but maybe it was time to actually consider the possibility. 

Castiel continued. "Is this, magic? This seems similar to our cold boxes back in Aetherys, and yet I do not see nor feel any sign nor scent of magic.”

Dean felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not  _ magic _ , it’s science. Electricity.”

“And what is electricity?”

Dean frowned, thinking. How the hell do you explain electricity? “It’s like lightning, harnessed to power chemicals to make the inside cold.”

“So it’s alchemy?”

Dean huffed, and raised his hands in defeat. “Sure.”

“Fascinating." Castiel finally moved away from the fridge, and Dean stepped forward to grab a couple slices of pizza wrapped in foil. He threw it into his toaster oven to reheat. "Right then, while that is reheating -"

"Another item that uses this so-called electricity?"

"Yes," Dean said, tone clipped to discourage more questions. Ask him to explain a car engine problem based on its sound, to determine the best kind of timber joint for a project, or to demonstrate how to forge a simple blade, and he could talk for hours. This was nowhere near his field of expertise, and it wasn't easy to explain how things he’d taken as normal  _ work.  _

There was something about this man that Dean could not place. It was starting to seem more likely that he had a brain injury that led him to believe  _ somehow _ that he was from another world. He didn’t seem insane, and Dean knew what a schizophrenic psychotic break looked like. The man was very, very convincing, and it really did seem like he knew and understood nothing about… well, everything. 

Brain injury or not, Dean didn’t feel right just turning him over and letting him fend for himself. If he just gave Castiel up to Bobby, the man would just end up in jail, or maybe an asylum, or most likely, homeless and alone. 

Dean had been lost in the system once. He was lucky that Bobby found him a little soon after John's death, or else he wouldn't have found Sammy again. Who knows where he would have ended up. 

Dean handed Castiel the pizza he'd retrieved from the oven, warning Castiel that it was hot. The other man accepted it gingerly, and stared at the pizza for a bit until Dean mimicked eating it with his hand. "Um, it's just flatbread with stuff on it."

"I'm more concerned with how it was heated. Is it safe? I figure that the glowing rods inside have been fed with electricity, hence…? How did they make this metal very thin?"

Dean shook his head, and just gestured at Castiel to just eat the pizza. The other man groaned in satisfaction and scarfed down the first slice in seconds. He hissed at the heat of the foil, but was able to gingerly get the next slice and this time, slowly savoured it. 

As he watched the other man, Dean started thinking. Maybe Dean should attempt to find his loved ones, wherever they may be. There was something about the way he didn’t know about the world that concerned Dean - he acted like he lived under a rock for all these years, and Dean was afraid that he used to live in a commune or in some sort of isolation from the world that really limited his experience. In any case, Dean would look him up, maybe ask Charlie to look into it - hell, even Bobby, especially since Bobby would have the resources to check through the proper sources.

Yes, Dean had decided. He was going to help Castiel. 

For the meantime, the man could stay here. His house had plenty of room for two, and Dean traveled a lot for work that even if the guy turned out to be an utter douchebag, well, that wouldn’t be a problem because Dean wasn’t home that often, anyway. He’d help the guy get back on his feet, find his family, or whatever he needed.   
  
Maybe, someday, he could have him help around the house, even just with the cleaning and house-sitting, as he was usually too busy and worn out after work. Having to spend a whole afternoon during a weekend just to clean up was, at best, annoying. Besides, he was getting lonely. He could use a roommate, even just temporarily.

And, well, it was a plus that he wasn't at all bad to look at. 

"You could sleep in the guest room, if you'd like," Dean offered. He eyed Castiel's garb. "And borrow some of my clothes, too. Might not fit you right, but better than what you have on right now." 

"There are no drawstrings on this, and yet it stays up using this stretchy material. How innovative! And it seems soft and comfortable. This must be expensive!"

"It's just a pair of old sweats, man," Dean said, amused. "If you think this nice, I'm going to blow your mind when we go get you some basics. If you want to, of course, I mean, you don’t  _ have _ to stay here.”

“I’ll be honored if you would allow me,” Castiel said. “Just until I find my brother, and I find a way back to Aetherys.”

Dean tried his best not to frown upon hearing the odd place Castiel kept bringing up. At least the man also mentioned a brother - that was a good start.

Dean held out a hand, and Castiel took it in his firm grip. “It’s a deal.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: First part has mentions of schizophrenia and mental institutions.

“You do remember what you need to do, don’t you, Dean?”

“Yes, dad,” Dean said, clutching the salt shaker in his hand. He uncapped the shaker, the cover rolling on the carpet mutely as he dropped it, and poured the contents onto the window sill. He picked up another shaker and did the same, only this time he lined the door with the small, white crystals. “There, you should be fine. If they’re ghosts or demons, this should keep them out.”

“Thank you son.” Dean looked at his dad, lying prone on the bed. The man raised his head slightly, and reached out to Dean. Dean went to his dad, who dropped something in his open palm. 

A red capsule.

“I wanted to be alert as you came in, son,” said his dad. “I needed to see if you had a spirit anchor itself to you, just like before - remember how the yellow-eyed man almost had Sammy?”

“Yes, dad,” answered Dean, his hand closing around the capsule.

“I have been after him since your mother died, and now I’m here, while you continue the hunt for him out there. Is your brother safe?”

His brother was probably kicking ass at baseball right now during his practice, with Bobby, a family friend, watching him from the sidelines and shouting instructions.

“Yes, dad,” Dean responded. 

“Tell me, if a wendigo -”

“Fire, dad.”

“Ghost?”

“Iron.”

“Vampire?”   
  
“Dead man’s blood, decapitation.”

“Werewolf?”   
  
“Silver. Goes for fey, too. I remember everything you taught me, dad,” Dean reassured, and his dad nodded in his bed. “We will be safe, I promise.”

“What about demons? Do you still have the Colt?”

They picked up an ornate looking Colt in a pawnshop, and his dad had given up a month’s worth of grocery money believing that it could kill anything. 

Damn thing didn’t even fire, and Dean had to go running to his Auntie Ellen for help when they ran out of food, without letting his dad know. His dad never even asked Dean where the food was coming from, and just continued his hunt for shadows that killed his wife, that fateful November night. Shadows that caused the freak electric shortage that set the ceiling on fire. Shadows that existed only in John’s head as his wife’s death.

Schizophrenia, the state said, and that he was unstable and was not fit to be in public, much less raise his kids. It made sense, Dean thought, as he had almost killed a man, believing him to be a demon involved in the murder of his wife. 

Dean had been the one to call the cops on his own father.

“Dean, remember your promise. You’re going to find him, Azazel, and kill him, and then set me free from this wretched place - don’t let them control me Dean, don’t let them.”

“Yes, dad,” Dean responded, tone not changing at all. A nurse entered, and Dean handed him the pill his dad gave him as Dean left the room.

“Oh John, you know that this is important - how long have you not been taking this? Where have you been hiding the rest of the medication - hell, how have you been hiding the rest?”

John didn’t answer. Instead, he sat up and started screaming, and grabbed the plastic salt shaker and hurled the container and its contents in the eyes of the nurse. A couple more men ran in to restrain the patient.

Dean never looked back.

Dean stared at the ceiling, thinking about how he hadn’t dreamt of his dad in months. He knew exactly what brought this on, and knew that the man in question had dragged out long-forgotten fears about his father.

He sighed, and covered his eyes with a forearm. The smell of really good, rich barbecue tickled his nose, and his belly growled. Time for breakfast, and Dean slowly stood up, hunger awakened by the amazing smell, until he realized that he absolutely did  _ not _ have a grill. He didn't even have an electric one! 

He leapt out of bed, hit with the terrifying possibility that his house might actually be on fire, and the man he let sleep in his guest room last night was a pyromaniac, similar to one of his dad’s fellow residents at the mental health facility.

The scent was stronger in the living room, and there he found Castiel with his cast iron pan being set on top of the fireplace. 

"I didn’t know how to work with any of the contraptions in your kitchen, and so I worked with whatever I understood. I understand fire." 

"I see that," was the only thing Dean could say. Castiel had pulled the coffee table closer to him and loaded it with plates, and he was currently spooning oil to cook the eggs with Dean’s spatula.

"I have flat cakes on the table, and I fried your bacon. Eggs are coming up soon." 

Dean came closer, and watched the eggs turn opaque white. "Smells good," he offered. Castiel poked at the embers to lower the temperature. 

Castiel beamed at him. "It's the least I can do to thank you for taking me in."

Dean smiled back, a little unsure. At least his worst fears were unfounded - his house wasn’t burning down, and everything was fine. "No problem, man. I'm sure you would've done the same."

"That does not lessen the kindness of the deed you have done," Castiel responded. "You have a beautiful soul, Dean." 

Dean ducked his head to hide his smile and blush. What was wrong with him, getting taken in by a stranger’s unusual comment? He sighed inwardly.

Might as well embrace it.

"Let me get the table ready and heat up bread my way, and maybe grab some syrup from the fridge for your cakes," said Dean. "Then we can eat."

“It’s beautiful Dean,” Castiel explained between bites, “mountains surrounded the kingdom, and nestled between Mount Kitanglad and Mount Ploi is a beautiful lake where the fish feed the population. The river running through the whole kingdom is filled with fish, and game hunting thrives in the mountain. The farmer’s crops and livestock keep us fed during winter months and the animals hibernate.”

“And you’ve grown up there your whole life?” Dean asked, half-politely, half-intrigued. Politely indulging someone’s delusions wasn’t new to Dean. At the very least, he hadn’t heard this one before.

Where did Aetherys even come from? Dean wasn’t familiar with anything like it. He had done a cursory search on it on google, but nothing substantial came up.

Maybe Castiel’s brain had made up Aetherys? Maybe he’d found it from a book and his mind adapted it somehow, thinking it was real? A Disney scriptwriter gone mad, perhaps? He didn’t sound like his dad, or anyone Dean had ever encountered. Usually, from what he had seen, if the delusions were this detailed, they wouldn’t be this functional, grounded, or hell, coherent.

“I was born there. I’m the third of three brothers. We were close,” Castiel explained, trailing off. He stopped, staring at his food.

“Cas?” Dean said, concerned. Long pauses made him a little nervous, especially since he didn’t know what he was dealing with.

“Sorry,” Castiel said, looking up. “I was just thinking about my brother, and how he sacrificed himself just to keep us safe.”

“Why, what happened?” Dean asked, more alert. Was there an accident or an event that Castiel remembered? 

“There was someone chasing us,” Castiel began. He seemed to grope for some words, and then continued.

“I remember the sky, lit in a menacing red, like the sun was setting, even though it was the thick of night. Luca had been investigating some weird phenomena that had been happening at night. Gabriel had roped me into getting ready to follow him, when our oldest brother entered the room with such panic. Luca hurried us out of the castle. He then revealed that it was Rowena, our kingdom’s mage.

“Fumbling through a dark forest glowing red followed by something powerful at your heels, knowing the danger you’ll be in if you get caught… it’s terrifying, Dean. I do not know how Luca had that medallion, but when he summoned the portal and pushed us in, he saved us. He saved me and Gabriel.”

“You must have been scared shitless,” Dean offered. He could see Castiel’s pale knuckles as the other man clutched the knife and fork tightly, and the offer of empathy visibly made Castiel look more at ease. Dean had been good at going along with stories to ease distress, and this was no different. At the very least, he wasn’t required to steal blood from the county’s coroner. 

“I was, as you said, ‘scared shitless’, and crashing into the unfamiliar wood, onto flat stone, then into the path of your metal steed… I really do apologize, Dean Winchester of Lawrence, Kansas, for injuring it.”

“It could be repaired. It’s called a car, and it’s an inanimate object. It’s not alive, Cas,” explained Dean.

“Oh! Is this another one of your world’s contraptions?”

“Yes, but I suggest you don’t call things  _ that _ while we’re out in public, maybe try to blend in a little?”

Castiel barked a laugh. “I will do my best.” He scratched at his neck, and looked at his hands, grimacing at the grime. “I must look like a sight. You are very kind to lend me your clothes. Is there a way that I can clean myself up, maybe a well I could draw bathwater from?”

Dean smiled, and said, “I have something better. If you’d like, you can use the shower in the bathroom?”

“Your own personal shower,” Castiel repeated, and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Are you going to pour water over me?”   
  
Dean snorted, and shook his head. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Dean held Castiel back with an arm as he opened his shower door. “So I do have a bathtub, but since we are trying to hurry, you should just use the shower. Just turn this knob, and -” a strong spray of water cascaded from the affixed shower, and Dean tested it for temperature. “You just fiddle with these (red for hot, blue for cold) until you get the desired heat. Use this shampoo for your hair, and the soap for your body. Do you understand?”

Castiel nodded, eyes shining in awe. He made a move to strip right there and then, and Dean yelped. “I am still here!”

“Servants and soldiers alike have seen me naked, you are but one man.”

“That does  _ not _ make it okay - Christ, fine, let me get out of here,” Dean shut the door behind him, and huffed. 

He wasn’t sure what he had gotten himself into, but he was determined to figure out what he could do for Castiel. The bizarre man did actually seem like he didn’t know how any of the things in the house worked, and he really didn’t seem violent, despite what he did to the Impala. Maybe he truly has never seen a car before. 

Dean paused. Maybe Aetherys  _ wasn’t _ made up. Maybe Castiel came from a commune and had Aetherys in his religious text, and when he bumped his head, it got mixed in with memories and became real to him. That would certainly explain the weird lifestyle. Maybe the costume was ah, maybe they had a medieval approach to their beliefs, somehow?

And what if Castiel was actually an amnesiac, and was simply missing? 

That made more sense than a made-up world, right?

It was like his brain just needed the light of the morning to think straight. As Dean started up his laptop to properly research  _ Aetherys _ , he had his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he called Bobby.

“Hey Bobby, I hope you got your beauty sleep. Sorry about last night,” Dean greeted, to which Bobby responded with a scoff and an eyeroll Dean could hear through the phone.

“Did you figure out what to do with your hypothetical stray?”

“I ah, I may have hypothetically taken him in for now?” Dean said, pulling the phone away from his mouth. He sighed, and spoke. “I just need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“I’m sending you a photo in a while and I just need it cross-checked with any missing people in the system? It’s important.”

Bobby let out a slow breath. “Dean, what did you do?”

“I’m just trying to help someone Bobby,” Dean said. “I just need this checked out.”

“Did you take in a homeless guy, Dean?” The cop was getting more irate. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, boy, just because you felt helpless over your inability to help your father. If you really want to help, you should volunteer at the local shelter and not take in possibly insane and violent people into your house!”

“Castiel isn’t violent, I swear.”

“That’s what we also thought about John.”

“No, Bobby,” Dean said quietly. “I’ve always known dad was violent. Maybe not towards me, but towards his delusions, and no one believed me.” The man on the other line was quiet, and Dean knew he got this. “Cas is… Cas is different.”

“You’ve named him, and now you’re keeping him, aren’t you kid?”

“He’s not a dog, what the hell?”

“Yes, but you called him Cas - you said his name was Castiel. You have this way of… naming people, and taking them under your wing.” 

Dean grimaced, scratching his head. He sighed. “Look, come on, nothing will happen, I promise,” Dean paused to gather his thoughts. “Honestly, I think he was a victim of some sort of foul play, and when he hit his head, his mind just decided to block it all out. He has these interesting ideas of where he came from and I’m currently looking up what he is talking about. And besides, he said he had a brother. Maybe we can find the brother and figure out where his family is, so he can go home.”

“Dean, I know you miss your father -”

“This isn’t like that!” Dean growled, and exhaled slowly to keep himself in check. “This is me trying to help a man who needs it. A possibly sick man, who isn’t violent, who has  _ no one _ and has nowhere to go, very much like Sam and I when dad died, before you came along and took us in. I just want to help, Bobby. He’s not going to do anything to me.”

“Why don’t you just take him to the hospital? I’ll pull some strings, we can get him some help -”   


“No!” Dean said firmly. “No hospitals. They’ll just pump him full of drugs and fuck his head up - I’ve seen how Dad  _ was _ Bobby, I know they said that the drugs were helping, but his eyes - he wasn’t all there, ever, after those meds! I’m not going to let them do that again to someone I know. I can handle this Bobby, I’ll be fine. He’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’ll see. Take care of yourself, Dean - I’m just concerned. I don’t want you to go through that again.” Bobby paused, as if considering something. He continued. “I’ll look into the missing persons if that will make you happy. Send me a picture of your friend. And if I hear anything about him hurting anyone, even if it’s just a fly,  _ anything _ : I  _ will  _ know, and I will take him in personally, and your friend will never see the outside world again.”

“I know.”

“I know you do, idjit. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“Bye son.”

The line died, and Dean sighed. This was why he was reluctant to ask for help in the first place - people fussed too much. Just because he had history with his dad didn’t mean he had a bleeding heart for headcases, nor did it mean he was too stupid to determine if the man was a danger to himself or others.

Castiel was really different. Castiel had nowhere to go, nowhere else to run to. He didn’t deserve to go to jail or to a mental institution because he believed he came from another land or planet, or… something. Plenty of people in this country believed in aliens and no one batted an eye, why couldn’t he?

Dean just needs to help him get his head on straight, somehow - just make sure that he knows how to keep his odd beliefs on the downlow, and help him learn basic technology. Everything should be fine, he thought to himself, as Dean typed Aetherys into the search bar. 

Well, tried to, anyway. He had attempted almost ten searches, all with various spellings, and nothing substantial was coming up. Google’s spelling suggestions were also exhausted, and there was a range of bands, artists, and even a Magic the Gathering card that popped up, but nothing about a place. It was possible that Dean was just typing it wrong, of course, but he felt like it would have come up by now if it was an actual place.

Maybe it  _ was _ , but what if it wasn’t on Google?

Dean shook his head at himself. That was not possible,  _ everything _ is on the internet.

But what if, though? He had no experience with technology whatsoever. He kept talking about Aetherys, and a castle and - maybe he was part of a cult that was technology averse, like the Amish? And that chainmail, as a part of a reenactment, maybe the cult was a medieval cult and preferred to live as such, and even assigned princes. Maybe that was why he was so enamored with the idea. 

Was that even possible?

Dean frowned at himself, considering. He glanced at the clock, realizing that Castiel had been in the shower for over thirty minutes, and Dean was getting concerned.

He made his way to the bathroom, and knocked. 

“Cas?”   
  
“Yes, Dean?”

“You’re taking a while,” Dean said. He tried the door, and the bathroom opened. The semi-opaque glass was fogged over, obscuring more of the naked person in the shower, which was really good, Dean thought. “We still have a full day ahead - remember that I am taking you to buy clothes?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered, and then nothing else.

“Cas, what are you doing in there?”

“Nothing - I just can’t get enough of your amazing shower. It’s like standing under the spray of a waterfall, or a strong cleansing rain after training. This is the most remarkable invention they have ever come up with.”

“You’re going to finish my hot water,” Dean said. “Come on man, get outta there. I need to shower too.”

“Just a few more minutes, Dean.”

Dean huffed, and turned to walk away. As he did so, he saw the toilet, and he bit his lip to stop himself from cackling.

He pushed the lever down, and flushed the toilet.

There was a loud, almost otherworldly shriek on the other end. The shower turned off, and Castiel slid the shower door open, panting. 

Dean couldn’t take his eyes away from Castiel’s naked glory, and so he slammed a palm on top of his own eyes and tossed the wet man a towel.

“What the actual fuck, Cas? Have some common decency!”

“I’m sorry, I think I broke your shower Dean - the water turned cold, all of a sudden!”

Dean’s shock had faded into laughter, and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. “No, it- no no, don’t worry about it, it does that when I redirected the water supply.”

“Oh,” Castiel responded, his wide-eyed expression slowly morphing into a pout. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I had to. Welcome to this world, Cas,” Dean said with a grin, and pushed his new friend out with a smile. “I left you some clothes in the guestroom. Now get out, it’s my turn to enjoy the wonders of modern plumbing.” 

After one quick shower, Dean shot a text to the local mechanic, Benny, to leave a loaner in his driveway, and to pick up the Impala later in the day to assess the damage. He then sat Castiel down on the couch, and crouched in front of him.

“Now, I want you to behave and make sure you keep your hands to yourself wherever we go, just in case, okay?”

Castiel sighed irritably. “I’m not a toddler, Dean Winchester.”

Dean stood up, blushing slightly as he realized his awkward mistake. The man in front of him was  _ very much  _ not a child, and he wasn’t a simpleton, either. Dean sighed at himself. “Sorry, Cas.”

“No matter,” Castiel said. “It isn’t every day you find a random stranger in the woods. I doubt you even know what to do with me.”

“I might not, but it wasn’t a good excuse to patronize you,” Dean responded. “In any case, I know enough that we first need to get you some clothes. You can’t just borrow mine indefinitely.”

Castiel nodded in agreement, then frowned at Dean. “Ah, surely they won’t be free…”

Dean smiled. At least he knew the man wasn’t intentionally taking advantage of him, or else he wouldn’t be showing any form of worry or shame. “Don’t worry about it, Cas.

When they came out of the house the large old truck was already in the driveway, the key in the  ignition. Dean patted the truck’s tailgate affectionately. “This trustworthy rustbucket should be enough to get us around until I get my baby fixed.”

“You have a baby?”

“I meant the car, Cas,” Dean explained. “Just like how you name horses, some people affectionately name cars as well, and it’s not weird.”

“Why would it be weird?”

Dean thought of Sam, and shook his head. “Nothing. Anyway, hop in,” Dean said, opening the door. Castiel stood uncertainly, and Dean spoke encouragingly, “I won’t let anything happen to you man. This thing isn’t gonna eat you, I promise.”

Castiel slowly climbed in, and Dean shut the door. “Let me get around to the driver’s seat, and we are off.”

The drive to the center of town was quick, with little to no fuss, and Dean quickly pulled up at the Goodwill nearby. “We’re bound to find something decent for you here,” said Dean. “Let’s just get you some regular clothes, then we’ll buy some new underwear at the mall later, maybe grab a bite to eat for lunch. How’s that sound?”

“I don’t know what a mall is,” Castiel deadpanned.

Dean grinned. “You’ll find out later.”

The first thirty minutes they spent in the store was just Castiel groping clothing textures obscenely, and Dean was actually concerned that they would get thrown out. Dean ushered the other man to move on to properly search the racks for decent clothes that would fit Castiel. Dean grabbed a cart and let Cas have it, while Dean looked for some things for himself. He had been looking through some books when Castiel approached him with an overflowing buggy, and Dean blinked at the colors Castiel had chosen.

Dean picked up a shirt from the basket, ready to put it back on the rack. “Neon green, really, Cas?”   
  
Castiel grabbed it from Dean, and clutched it to himself. “I have never seen such brilliant colors in my life, Dean. I want them.”

“Cas, they are an eyesore. You’ll blind someone a mile away with these clothes.” It was like shopping with a child, honestly. But what did Dean expect? If his suspicions regarding a medieval cult was correct, Castiel wouldn’t have ever had his hands on anything like this. It would make sense that he would gravitate towards colors that he is fascinated by.

“They look amazing! How did they get the color this saturated? It almost seems like it’s glowing.”

Dean shook his head, and looked through the rest of the cart. “These are all in bright, fluorescent colors.”

“They look amazing!”

“I - fine,” sighed Dean. “But we’re also going to get you some proper clothes because you can’t just wear this.”

Dean came with him this time, and in no time, they were done. They also picked up a pair of practical brown boots, and bright red sneakers that Castiel wouldn’t let go of. On the way to the cashier, Castiel spotted a long, brown coat that he couldn’t stop staring at, and so Dean grabbed it from the hanger as well.

“I think we’re good,” Dean said, as he rolled up to the register. He looked back at Castiel, who had stopped in the middle of the aisle. “Cas?”

“Dean, I can’t pay for any of these. Surely this isn’t free.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said. “You can just make it up to me.”

Castiel said nothing, and simply had a pensive, concerned look on his face as they moved on. Dean had driven them to dollar store to get some cheap underwear for his guest, and after that they went to Dean’s favorite diner to grab some lunch before they went back to Dean’s place. 

“What is this place, Dean?”   
  
“You’ll find out.”

Castiel frowned, gesturing at the windows before he alighted from the car. “But why are there hearts decorated all over the glass? There were hearts everywhere in the clothes shop and the other stores we visited, too.”

“It’s February, Cas, it was just Valentine’s day last week,” Dean said. Castiel frowned, and Dean continued, “it’s a celebration for lovers.”

Castiel opened his mouth as if to ask something, but Dean didn’t have a chance to answer as when he opened the door to the diner, someone had greeted him immediately.

“Dean Winchester, I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Missouri!” A shorter, stout black woman met Dean in a hug, and she ushered him and Castiel to a booth. "How are you?"

"I am still here, and we are still running,” answered Missouri with a smile. “Who is your friend?”

“Ah, this is Castiel, my new roommate,” said Dean. “Just thought I’d show him around town.”

“Not from around here, are you?”

“No,” responded Dean before Castiel could answer.

Missouri smiled, and patted Dean’s hand on the table before shaking her head. “No, I meant you’re not from around  _ here _ , are you, boy?”

Castiel blinked up at her in awe. “No, I am not. How did you-”

“I just know,” Missouri said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to find your way back.”

Castiel nodded, and Dean saw something brighten in Castiel’s face. “I’m always ready to order,” said Dean to Missouri, “but I think my friend here would need a little more time.”

“Sure, I’ll have one of the waitresses bring you some coffee.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” Dean answered. When Missouri left, Dean turned to Castiel, who was frowning at the menu. “You okay bud?”

“Yeah, I just don’t understand how she could have  _ known _ -”

“Missouri fancies herself a psychic,” explained Dean. “Now, I don’t believe such things, but she’s been correct far too often for me to say she’s making it up, and so I just leave it be.”

Castiel nodded to himself. “Do you think she’ll be able to divine what I would like to eat? As these are all quite unfamiliar…”

“Would you like me to order for you?” 

Castiel nodded, and Dean told the passing waitresses that he would like to get a couple of cheeseburgers with fries on the side, and upon thinking a little longer, some coke. 

When the food arrived, Dean shoved the soda towards Castiel. “Try this.”

“And this is?”

“Coke.”

“What’s a coke?”   
  
“That,” gestured Dean, “is a coke.”

Castiel shrugged, and grabbed the glass. He sniffed, nose wrinkling, and gingerly took a sip.

He immediately spat back into the drink, prompting a “hey!” and a ton of laughter from Dean. "I was planning to drink that."

Castiel swirled water in his mouth before speaking. "What is that poison? It felt like pebbles exploded in my mouth. It felt hot and cold at the same time, like my tongue was stung by sickly sweet poison ivy momentarily. That is ghastly! You drink that  _ on purpose _ ?"

"You don't have to be over-dramatic about it," Dean deadpanned with a snort. "It's just soda."

"It's bizarre!"

Dean shook his head. “Remind me to get you some pop rocks.”

“If it’s anything like this coke substance, don’t bother.”

They tucked into the food eventually, with Castiel happily munching into the burger and marveling at how he has never done this in Aetherys and he would decree it to be a staple in their menu. Dean watched the man eat, smiling to himself. 

He could have left Castiel at that road instead, or took him to the hospital or to the police station, and the man would have been out of his hair. He wouldn’t have seen anyone marvel at things he had been used to for so long, breathing new life into experiences that were normal and mundane for Dean.

Castiel was a very refreshing man. He was the complete opposite of Dean’s dad - John Winchester had a heavy air around him that seemed to follow Dean, even after John had died. Only after extensive therapy sessions and the support of Sam and Bobby was he able to move past it. Bobby was wrong. Castiel wasn’t John. Dean wasn’t an idiot, though. He would be careful. 

But for now, he was just going to enjoy having a new person in his life, and one that he could pass on the help he was given.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel dropped his blue Gas’n’Sip vest on the couch, and sat down. The sun was just beginning to rise, the sky lighter, with streaks of yellow seeping from the clouds. He had requested to be moved to the night shift. It was such a shame that he wouldn’t be able to see the budding leaves on the trees and the blooming flowers he usually passed by, or enjoy the beautiful weather that had come with spring. The days were almost as beautiful as the ones in Aetherys.

A month had passed since he’d arrived in this realm, and blending in hadn’t been easy.

He didn’t like being around his coworkers. They weren’t very welcoming to him, no matter whom he ended up on shift with. They weren’t rude, but they weren’t nice either, and Castiel could ever be comfortable around them. Nora, his manager, was understanding, and thinking that he seemed fit and capable, allowed him to take the graveyard shift instead. 

Looking back, Castiel wasn’t even sure where Dean was able to get the paperwork that he presented to Nora. But once he expressed that he wanted to work so that he could help Dean with the expenses, Dean had procured some papers for him to present. Castiel was simply grateful for them and did not ask any questions.

The chores board that Dean put up had a few bullets for him to do. Just some general house cleaning, he saw, and to quickly mow the lawn. Easy chores he could take care of before he needed to sleep. 

Castiel took the vacuum from the closet, and started in the living room. 

He remembered when he first saw how the vacuum worked. The loud noise had startled him, until he realized the genius and worth of being able to simply suck in all of the dirt instead of using an old-fashioned broom and batting the dust around.

This world was fascinating and amazing. They have different technology which made their life easier, these contraptions that work through electricity and science. Castiel was still convinced that it wasn’t anything different from alchemy and magic, but maybe it was just because that was what he was used to.

He’d never thought of using magic here on earth until now - he could already feel the absence of it in the air. It explained why the atmosphere here felt stale. In his world, Castiel and his brothers were only able to do the simplest of spells, unless they have a spellbook, and even then, they need potions and ingredients to do so. 

At least he could still feel the magic inside himself, feeling Yolcham just beneath his skin. As long as he had it, Castiel felt utterly safe. He wished he could at least use a tracking spell to find Gabriel, just to make sure his brother was still alive and made it out safe. 

Castiel figured he should ask Dean for help looking for Gabriel at some point, but the man had done so much for him already. Dean had given him food and shelter, even clothing, and he didn’t want to be more of a burden.

But it was his brother. He had to find him.

Castiel decided that being timid would get him nowhere, and worked up the courage to ask Dean for assistance. The other man promised to get some of his police friends to look into it.

Dean had been doing so much for him, and he realized that he needed to pay Dean back, somehow. He asked Dean to assist him in finding a job to make some gold (or rather, money, since they used these paper cutouts with an assigned value in their world. Castiel didn’t really understand how paper could have that much value, but he had seen himself how important it was, and thus had no choice.) He was lucky that Nora gave him this job despite his low qualifications. 

At least now, he could pay Dean back, even if it was only by working chores and providing some grocery money. He had asked Dean if he should also pay him rent, but Dean hadn’t told him anything else beyond “I’ll think about it.”

Castiel moved onto the second floor, and finished up with his room. He stopped in front of Dean’s room, considering, and opted to open the door anyway. Usually, when he cleaned, Dean would be in the house as well, and thus would take over when it comes to his room. Castiel figured, however, that Dean might appreciate it if he at least left his floor spotless. The door was unlocked, so Castiel headed inside and started cleaning. He was almost done when the vacuum made a choked up noise, and so he turned it off and checked underneath. 

There was black object, with multiple spherical shapes attached to each other, like a peanut in its shell, but larger. The tip flared up to the base, and the base seemed to be cradled by a curved, flat material, and there was a wire coming from the bottom of the device. The wire extended to something underneath Dean’s bed, and Castiel followed the string until he found another curved, cylindrical device with a few buttons. 

Castiel pushed one of the buttons, and the device just came to life and started buzzing in his hand. It felt like his skin was being tickled and poked by a million tiny needles at the same time, making his palm feel slightly numb. Startled, Castiel dropped the object. It continued buzzing on the floor, and Castiel didn’t want to touch it again, but knew he had to figure out how to turn it off. He fumbled with the cylinder, and pressed another button, which turned the vibration off. The thing suddenly started again after a beat and Castiel dropped it when the shaking object touched his skin. In his shock, the Yolcham slid partly out of his arm and severed the wire that connects the two items with a snip sound. 

“Sard,” Castiel put the Yolcham back, he hadn’t lost control of it like that since he was a child. He picked up what he broke, and carried it down to the kitchen counter, where he found Dean pulling out a box of donuts. 

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Castiel said. 

Dean shrugged good-naturedly. “I called for you, but heard the vacuum upstairs and figured you were cleaning. Donut?”

“Sure, in a while,” Castiel said. He exhaled. “Dean, I entered your room to vacuum, and I’m afraid I have broken something.”

“Ah shit, Cas - I should have locked my door, but you should’ve known not to enter other people’s rooms without permission man, you’re not a child,” Dean said with a huff. He looked ready to go up to his room, but seemed to decide against it and instead jammed a donut into his mouth first. 

Castiel gritted his teeth, definitely not appreciating being talked to like a wayward teenager, but let it go. It was his fault he broke something after all, even if he was only trying to help. 

“Anyway, here it is,” said Castiel, and opened his palm to reveal the item. “I could pay for it if - Dean?”

Dean’s face was red up to his ears, and Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright Dean?”

Dean nodded, and put down his confection. He swallowed, and swiped the items from Castiel’s hand faster than he could say sorry. “It’s fine you don’t need to buy me a new one, it’s okay, forget about it.”

“No but, I want to. What is that contraption anyway? It feels odd on my palm - it got stuck beneath the vacuum, then I accidentally turned it on. I’m afraid I severed the wire when I got startled.”

“You’ve… had it in your hand the whole time? Christ, Cas, how- it, um.” Dean licked his lips nervously and paused, collecting his thoughts. “It’s a thing that people use for sex, Cas. It goes up your-”

It was Castiel’s turn to blush, and he immediately went to the sink to wash his hands. “Oh! I’m so sorry - it is a very, ah, intimate item and I just… I didn’t mean to break it.”

Dean had calmed down at this point, and was examining the wire the Yolcham severed. “Damn, Cas, you had this cut so cleanly. If I didn’t know any better I would think you used wire cutters on this - how did you melt the edges?”

“Ah,” Castiel frowned, not knowing how to respond. “Can you fix it? Or should I just buy you a new one?”

“Don’t buy me a new one!” Dean exclaimed immediately. “It’s fine, you can just pay for it when - if, if I get another one.”

“Sex is nothing to be ashamed of, Dean, nor is masturbation,” Castiel said. “It’s a very natural thing to do. Private, perhaps, but still natural. Fascinating contraption your people have came up with, really.”

Dean murmured something under his breath, and Castiel blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. Eat your donut Cas, I’m making us coffee - and we are never talking about this again.”

Castiel smiled, and took a donut for himself, when there was a knock on the door. 

Dean raised his eyebrow, and checked his watch. He looked confused, but headed out to check on the door. Castiel remained in the kitchen, contentedly chewing on his donut, when he heard Dean exclaim. There was another male voice that Castiel could hear, and he peeked out of the kitchen to find out who it was. 

“Oh! You must be Castiel,” the man greeted. He was taller and bigger than Castiel by a handspan, with slightly shaggy but somehow seemingly neat hair. Dean looked happy to see him, but Castiel could tell he was a little annoyed that this man was here. 

“Cas, meet Sam, my younger brother,” Dean said.

Castiel gave him an acknowledging nod. “Nice to meet you Sam, there are donuts here in the kitchen, if you’d like some.”

“Thank you, Cas,” Sam said, and turned to Dean with a smug expression he’d definitely seen on Gabriel before, whenever he was trying to tick off Luca. Dean met this with a roll of his eyes, and both men walked towards Castiel. Sam tipped his head at Castiel. “Actually, Cas, if you don’t mind, I need to speak to Dean privately.”

“Oh, sure,” Castiel said. He went back into the kitchen to grab the donut he was eating, and then left immediately. He was debating whether he should grab a book from the bookshelf or just go up to his room, when he heard his name from the kitchen.

Castiel frowned upon eavesdropping, definitely, but he couldn’t help himself, knowing that the two brothers were talking about him. He crept behind the wall, behind the entry way that divides the kitchen and the living room.

“...actually miss taking care of someone just like our dad? Come on Dean, I thought you were smarter than this!”

“He is nothing like Dad, Sam. And you’d know this if you dropped in more than once a month!”

“Hey, look, you can’t blame me for last month’s schedule, we were in the middle of a trial, you know this Dean!” There was a pause, and Sam’s voice grew quiet. “That was the first time we hadn’t seen each other in over a month - hell, Eileen dropped in to check on you for me. It’s not like I forgot you, Dean.”

“Look, I didn’t mean that,” Dean said, voice deeper and gruffer than usual. Castiel could hear someone turn the faucet on, and he could imagine Dean aggressively scrubbing the dishes and doing his best not to look at his brother. “You can’t judge Cas based on how dad was. He’s different, Sam. Look, he even got himself a job in order to help with the finances.” There was a pause, and Castiel could hear something flat hit the counter. “He helps around the house, doing chores. He doesn’t just try to drink his nightmares and delusions away to make himself seem and feel sane.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, that he believes that he came from another world? Dean, what if he tries to kill you in your sleep? Remember the time when Dad believed that he was possessed by this demon and believed he could hear him…”

“Sam. Castiel is not dad. He believes in another world, yeah, he believes he is a prince, sure, but he doesn’t ask me to murder him. Hell, a good percent of Americans believe in the man in the sky moving us around like board game pieces, and a bunch believe in aliens. Aliens, Sammy. What makes him any different?”

“Because he lives in your home, Dean,” said Sam, and Castiel could hear a pair of shoes walk around the kitchen. “Look, I’m just worried, Dean. I was there for dad too, and saw what he did to you, to us. I just don’t want that to happen to you again.”

At this point, Castiel recognized that they weren’t talking about him anymore, and felt guilty at intruding on something so vulnerable from the two brothers. He tiptoed upstairs, forgetting about his plans to grab a book, and instead lay on his bed, thinking.

Dean just defended him against his brother. Sure, Dean actually still thought that he was delusional, but Dean believed that Castiel meant him no harm. He trusted that Castiel would contribute to the house, that he wouldn’t just rely on Dean and be his burden.

Dean trusted him, a relative stranger, with his life and safe haven, Castiel thought to himself. He already admired Dean for what he had done for Castiel, but he never realized how much bigger it was coming from a man who had spent a significant part of his life taking care of a man who was truly sick, and yet still offered his home to a stranger that for all he knew could have been the same. 

Dean was a truly extraordinary man, and someday, Castiel would find a way to repay him, somehow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this fic, the bunker is located in Lawrence, Kansas, near-ish Dean's family home.

Dean was driving down the interstate when it first happened. He was heading towards the nearest state park to check out a cabin for restoration. It was just a slip of a thought, a quick "too bad Cas had started working this week, I would’ve taken him with me" when the beginning notes to a song suddenly sprang out of the radio. 

_ Imagine me and you, I do _

_ I think about you day and night, it's only right _

Dean slammed on his breaks in shock, and was met with a barrage of loud and angry car horns behind him. Dean rolled down his window and waved a hand in apology, turned off the radio. 

He wasn't sure how the hell that happened. The radio was off, definitely off, and Dean's fingers were nowhere near the knob. Maybe it short circuited somehow and started on its own. 

Carefully, Dean turned the knob to turn it off, but the damn song continued.

_ When you're with me baby the skies'll be blue _

_ For all my life _

He tried to turn it off again, and was successful this time. Dean blinked. He didn't think he had Happy Together on this mixtape, but he was apparently wrong. 

It happened again after a week or so. They were having dinner before Castiel's shift, the first chance they’d had in a while, as Dean had been coming home late, busy with his cabin project. Food was spaghetti, something quick and easy that he whipped up from rooting through the pantry and realizing they were actually out of groceries. 

Dean faced Castiel, and he watched the man try to figure out how to slurp the noodles cleanly. He could feel the corner of his mouth raise in amusement as he saw sauce fleck Castiel's cheek. "Cas, you have something-" he mimicked wiping the right corner of his mouth, but Castiel just kept missing it as he wiped. 

Dean shook his head, and grabbed a napkin. He moved forward to dab at Castiel's face when-

_ WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE _

_ THAT'S AMORE _

Dean dropped the napkin right on top of his own plate, and he looked angrily at the radio which just started up out of fucking nowhere at full blast. 

He angrily turned it off, with Castiel blinking confusedly at what just happened. "Does it usually turn on on its own?"

Dean gruffly replied, "No, it doesn't," mourned the sauce that smeared itself all over his napkin, and continued eating. 

When it happened again after another week, Dean was certain there was  _ something  _ at play here. They had gone out to celebrate the Impala's healing-or rather, the parts Dean ordered finally arrived and he was able to finish up on his repairs. Castiel had also asked for a day off, which Nora had graciously given him in exchange for a shift on Easter.

Dean figured they were to go to Missouri's, then they’d go for a nice walk on one of his favorite trails, near where he usually LARPs. He left the windows open instead of turning the A/C on, thinking it would make Castiel feel less claustrophobic. This was the first time the other man had ever ridden Baby while awake and lucid, and Dean wanted to make sure that the experience was as pleasant as possible. 

It seemed like it was, since Castiel was happily poking his head out of the window, marveling at the speed at which they were going. He was visibly enjoying himself, whooping as they went, and Dean grinned. 

He was happy that Castiel was enjoying himself, and Dean couldn't help but think that he wanted more road trips with this man in front of him. More vacations. More  _ everything. _

He wanted to share everything with Castiel.

The idea made him feel momentarily confused, because hey, people don't usually think that about their roommates - hell, their best friends. 

_... I must get round to it _

_ I ain't ready!  _

_ Crazy little thing called love _

Dean jumped in his seat the moment the radio started up, but it had happened twice now, and so wasn't as surprising as the first time. He'd swerved a little, but luck was on his side as the road was pretty empty. 

"I like this song," Castiel said, now sitting properly in his seat, tapping a finger along to the music.

Dean swallowed, glancing at the man beside him. He shook his head and smiled. "Welcome to good music Cas, none of that Taylor Swift crap you've been listening to on your phone. This is Queen. Never fails."

"You introduced me to Taylor Swift, remember?" 

Dean wrinkled his nose, and chuckled under his breath. "Touchè, Cas. In any case, lemme school you in  _ better _ music, then."

He turned up the radio, and sang loudly all the way to Missouri’s. He was willing to ignore the event until he opened the door to the diner, and - 

_ Oh yeah I'll tell you something _

_ I think you'll understand _

_ Yeah I'll tell you something _

_ I wanna hold your hand _

Dean wrinkled his nose as he listened. He immediately dropped Castiel's wrist the moment they came in- he only gripped it as the man almost tripped on the damn step! "You got something against the Beatles, boy?" 

"Nothing ma'am," Dean said immediately. He smiled his most charming smile and gave Missouri a hug. "I love the Beatles."

"You better. Yer momma raised you on  _ Hey Jude _ that good music should run in your veins," Missouri said. Dean wouldn't even ask how she knew. 

"I know, it's just that it feels like something's been following me," Dean started, and before Missouri could answer, Castiel had overheard. 

"Following you?"

"Nothing Cas," Dean responded, and he shoved the man lightly towards their usual booth. Castiel moved towards the booth and sat, leaving Dean behind to talk to Missouri. 

"Something definitely is toying with you, Dean," Missouri said, a little concerned. She frowned, took Dean's hand, and closed her eyes. She then opened them, nodded, and seemed satisfied with whatever she did. "It doesn't seem malevolent or anything, just…trying to drive a point."

"Right," Dean said, drawing out his vowel in a disbelieving drawl. "Great."

"Don't anger it," Missouri said. "It seems to be anchored on your friend there, guarding him somehow. You should be careful with him."

It was just one word, but Dean heard the emphasis. "'With', not 'around'?"

Missouri gave him a pitying smile. "In the words of your uncle, you are an 'idjit'. You'll figure it out." 

A few days after Easter, during Castiel’s off day, Dean decided he should finally show off his bunker-turned-workshop, and Dean's pride and joy, his own smithy. It was just a few minutes away from his showroom, and Dean thought he could finally show Castiel where he worked.

Dean specialized in antique furniture restorations, and sometimes even branched out into restoring old wooden buildings if he could gather workers he knew and trusted. He also had his own line of custom-made furniture, and was pretty successful in its own right. 

It took him awhile to get here. If there was anything John did good, it was leaving them  _ something _ when he died. The property used to be Dean's grandfather's, and with Dean's half-burnt childhood home, Dean was set for life. He never did understand why his dad never sold it, until Sam found his will in an empty Johnny Walker Blue bottle in the Impala. Everything was left to the two, and when they checked the place out, everything was already restored to how it used to be. 

_ Everything _ , down to Dean's old single bed and Sammy's old crib. 

It must have been what John had been working on whenever he eared. He had created a shrine to his late wife. Sam wanted nothing to do with either property and wanted to sell it, but let Dean have both anyway. 

"Dad made you go through all of  _ that _ Dean, might as well benefit from it," Sam had said. "I think he’d want you to keep it."

The bunker was something that took them a while before they visited, but Dean marvelled at the space and immediately started thinking of ways to use it. 

They ended up with the idea of woodworking, and with Bobby as his backer and business partner, Dean put up the business. After more than five years, he'd made a small niche for himself. Then he'd met a good friend of his named Charlie, who got him into LARPING, and consequently, metalwork, after he'd figured there was a need for good sword replicas. 

He pulled into the garage and patted his 1976 Ranger F-150 truck in the garage. Dean opened the door, and led Castiel down a long hallway. They took a turn, and went into the crow’s nest - a wide, open area, with high ceilings and a set of stairs leading out. He led Castiel in what used to be a library, and after fumbling for the switch, waved his hand at the sight in front of them. "Welcome to my humble workplace."

Castiel didn't answer. He instead opted to go towards the nearest set of furniture. Dean remembered that - he'd done it in a fit of inspiration, planing the log himself to get ready for building and then finishing it with wonderful swirls of carved wood framing the furniture. 

"This is absolutely intricate Dean. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m very happy you showed me your work - the detail is breathtaking.”

Dean grinned. “I’m glad you think so.”

"You have been very kind to the wood. The flowers you carved are beautifully done - the chamfering is smoothly done," Castiel said, running fingers along Dean's work. 

Dean brightened. "You know more about wood-working than you led on!" 

"I am quite familiar with it. Carving is something I fiddle with in my spare time when I do have it. I tend to bring home spare wood I picked up from my forest exploits and work at it until I create small mugs, figurines, and the like," responded Castiel. He looked around, and went to a dining room set. Dean had done this for a client, and was only waiting for them to pick it up this week. It was solid red oak, but large loops of metal serving as its legs. The chairs had interlocking circles for its back, and oak as the seat. Castiel tested the chair with his hand, shaking it a little, and found it extremely sturdy. "But my favorite must be metalwork," Castiel continued, eyes shining. "And this is a wonderful way to put both together. This is brilliant work, Dean."

"You've done metalwork as well?"

"Oh yes!" Castiel responded enthusiastically. His expression turned sheepish. "I may have pretended to be a servant for a full six months just to be accepted as the blacksmith’s apprentice before he found out. By then I’d learned quite a bit and experimented on my own in my spare time. I made my sword - the one you’d displayed over the mantle.”

“I remember examining that. That was sturdy, with beautiful craftsmanship,” Dean responded enthusiastically. He rarely had a chance to talk about his craft, and ignoring the weirder aspects of Castiel’s story, Dean was excited. He had joined some internet discussion boards and sometimes go to expos, but it wasn’t ever quite the same as talking to a friend about it. “You made it on your own?”

“Forged from steel found in the sacred mountains,” Castiel said proudly. Dean beamed back at him, and pointed in the direction of his smithy. 

They made their way to a large area. Dean stood at the side while Castiel went around the room to look at the different tools, and marveled at the forge at the far side of the room, with the large industrial chimney for all the smoke. “This is brilliant. And what is this small, beeping circle?”

It made sense that Castiel would be drawn to things he had never seen before, but Dean admitted that it took him a while to get used to it. “That’s a carbon monoxide detector. Tells me if the build-up of chemicals in the air from the forge is harmful and deadly.”

“Amazing. It had never been a problem in Aetherys, as the smithy itself is in an open area, but this is a brilliant thing to do if it is indoors. What a marvel!”

Dean watched as Castiel explored the smithy, and followed him into Dean’s workshop. Castiel tried to determine the use of each machine, exclaiming his fascination every now and again and asking Dean questions if he was correct.

No matter what anyone says, Castiel’s wonder at all of the things Dean took for granted was  _ refreshing _ . Sure, there was something odd about being around a man who probably used to be in a weird cult (which Dean had still never confirmed, but was starting to slowly get used to), but the way he looked at everything like it was all new was amazing. It brought Dean back to how his life  _ was _ amazing, with all the new technology around him that no one had before. 

It might sound absolutely froofy, but Castiel’s point of view made Dean feel like he was seeing saturated color. Everything was suddenly more brilliant and wonderful.

_ There were bells on a hill _

_ But I never heard them ringing _

_ No I never heard them at all _

_ Til there was you _

Dean jumped when the music blared from the speakers overhead. He could see Castiel stop from the corner of his eye, and approach Dean.

“Dean?”

“I don’t know what is happening, I swear,” said Dean. “My phone is connected to the speakers here, but I didn’t even open them. Hell, my phone is  _ locked.  _ I don’t know how I could have butt-played this song!”

_ There were birds in the sky _

_ But I never saw them winging _

_ No, I never saw them at all _

_ Till there was you _

Dean fumbled with his phone as it refused to cooperate. For some reason it just wouldn’t read his fingerprint, and he kept putting in the wrong code somehow. Castiel watched with amusement, his foot tapping to the Beatles song that simply  _ won’t _ stop.

“Is this more of the music education you wanted to provide?” Castiel asked.

“No - yes, but no, I don’t know why this, argh,” Dean said, hanging his head as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. “I give up. It’s a pretty good version, anyway.”

Castiel chuckled, his blue eyes lighting up like the sky. “It’s fine, Dean,” the man said, and then looked somewhat pensive. He looked Dean in the eye with determination. “I have something to show you, but you have to swear that you will not panic.”

“I’ll… try?”

Castiel stretched his arm and flicked his wrist just so, and in a blink of an eye, a blade appeared in his hand. The parlor trick had been so unexpected and smooth that Dean's jaw dropped as he watched. "How?"

"This is the  _ Yolcham _ ," Castiel explained, as he examined the sword in his hand. "I had it when I came of age. This is my gift, like my brothers have had before me." He thought for a moment, then turned the weapon around, handing the hilt to Dean. Dean took it, marvelling at the three-edged design. He examined the blade by viewing it from the hilt, then testing its weight in his hand. It had a perfect balance, and it felt like it molds to the palm of whoever holds it. “Please be careful - it can kill anything it pierces. Permanently.”

With those words, Dean handed the blade back. Even if it was just Castiel’s belief or superstition, it was still a scary thought. 

“How were you able to pull this from your sleeve?” Dean wondered aloud. Castiel had been wearing a bright orange button up, sleeves buttoned at the wrist. “I am pretty sure I would’ve noticed it if you had it in your shirt the whole time. I’m impressed, Cas - although it’s a little too late for April fool’s, but not a bad… trick.”

"I could summon the  _ Yolcham _ from thin air. It’s part of its magic,” Castiel said, and he waved the blade casually, and it disappeared.

Dean didn’t even know how that happened, and he felt goosebumps up his arm. “How-how did you find out it can kill  _ anything? _ That’s a bold claim to make about a sword,” he asked. Dean needed to speak, see if he could make sense of what he just saw. It was probably just a parlor trick, he decided. It was either that or  _ actual magic _ , which didn’t exist, right?

“I was on a hunt with my father. We had been chasing a stag when we got lost through the darker part of the wood where no one treads. It had legends of horrible beasts that roamed its depths, and we just happened upon one of them.

“A lion met us. At first, we wondered at how a lion could have made it this far into the forests of our kingdom, until we realized that its face was wrong. It had thick eyebrows and grey eyes, and its nose was human-like, with the lips of a man but protruding lion fangs.It had these large leathery wings, like a bat’s. As it moved closer, it revealed his huge tail, its edge sharp and deadly, like a scorpion’s stinger.

“A manticore was loose in our kingdom," Castiel said. The other man gestured at a work stool, in which Dean sat mesmerized with the tale being spun."These creatures rarely make it past the border, as the kingdom's mage fuels a massive shield boundary, but some still do slip through the cracks, just like that one. 

"Father and I were frozen. Manticores are dangerous and very tricky to kill - some would say that they were nigh indestructible. We looked at each other, but beyond running for our lives, we can tell that we are both just, as you say, too 'scared shitless' to react."

"Where did you even learn air quotes?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel sighed. "Of all I have said, that is what you have noticed?"

"It jolts me out of the magic, bud," Dean said, eyes twinkling. "I'm  _ kidding _ Cas. I wanna know what happens next." He pulled up another stool for Castiel to sit in. "You're a very good storyteller."

"Thank you. Now, Father mouthed the word 'run' -stop giggling, Dean- but I could tell he wasn't about to run with me. His stance was wrong, and his fingers twitched beside his hilt. 

"I was having none of it. I turned and faced the manticore. It had finally scented us, and roared aloud to announce its presence. My father raised his sword, and so did I, and we attacked.

"We knew that its tail was the most dangerous part of it. Wieldy and flexible, we had to be mindful of running from side to side without getting the other cornered. I nodded at my father, and he took it upon himself to be the bait as I slipped and slid behind the beast in order to chop its tail off at the base. 

"My father was able to corner it at the base of a few trees, and I made my move. I hit the base as hard as I can, but made one fatal miscalculation.

"The shell," Dean breathed, caught up in the story. "The shell was too hard."

"Yes, the chitin protected the base of the tail," Castiel agreed. "I should have hit the flesh, I realized too late. My sword had shattered upon impact, and I had the attention of the manticore, who had turned and now had  _ me _ cornered. 

"I could hear my father shout for me, fear heavy in his voice. I had to rethink my position, but it was impossible to move away unless I slip under the manticore, which would not have worked, as it would have merely trampled me underfoot. 

"Then my arm started to ache. It started from my forearm, and it felt heavier and heavier, until the dull ache set fire to my entire right hand up to my elbow. It took all my sheer power (at the age of 15, no less) to fight losing consciousness, but then the feeling faded, ever so slowly, as I felt something solidify in my fingers.

“It was the hilt of the  _ Yolcham _ . And then I just  _ knew _ what it was for, and there was some form of courage that awakened in me. I knew it would keep me safe, and held it in my hand confidently as I attacked head-on. I could hear my father screaming at me to cease my plan of action, but I paid him no heed. I knew the fight was over.

“Its stinger arrived from above in a flash, right where I was standing. I put my blade up, and it slid through the chitin like it was  _ butter _ . I had lopped off its major defence, but the fight wasn’t over. The thing had claws and fangs, but they were no hardship to dodge. 

“I came in and simply didn’t stop. I evaded a paw, and then another, and I was right there, right under the manticore as it reared. I jumped up, and my blade slid cleanly through its ribs and into its heart.

“When it crashed, my father thought I was done for.  _ I _ thought I was done for.” Castiel leaned over, and Dean met him in the middle. He spoke lowly, “I was more scared when I was stuck under the massive beast compared to how it felt when it was after me.”

A wide smile formed on Dean’s face, and he started laughing, and couldn’t stop. Castiel joined him until the laughter between them died down.

“You are an amazing storyteller, Cas,” said Dean, with a huge smile. “Tell you what, we have quite a while until it goes dark and we have to go back, but I’ll let you have a crack at some of my tools and do a small project.”

Castiel agreed enthusiastically, and started to take off his orange shirt, revealing a white tank underneath, and Dean couldn’t help but slide his eyes along the expanse of skin that was revealed. The way Castiel’s muscles rippled as he worked, with each strike of the cross peen, had Dean mesmerized. When Castiel slipped on Dean’s brown, leather apron - Dean had never been jealous of inanimate objects before.

For a while, Dean had forgotten the impossibility of who Castiel claimed he was, and just saw his friend that he might actually have feelings for. Then Castiel turned to him, and beamed.

Maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance. 

_ Then I saw your face _

_ Now I’m a believer _

The speakers suddenly started above them, and all Dean Winchester could do was to laugh his ass off. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Why did you take me in?” Castiel asked Dean one morning over a plate of eggs and toast. 

Dean coughed, caught off guard. He grabbed his mug of coffee and drank before responding, “huh?”

“I overheard you and Sam talking last month, and… I have been wondering, because he has a point, Dean," Castiel said. He paused to take a bite of his eggs. "You didn’t know me - you  _ don’t  _ know me, do you? For all you do know I’m absolutely insane and would want to kill you in your sleep.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “...are you?”

“No, I’m not of course, but that is not my point.”

“I know, I know," said Dean. He started cutting up his ham into bite size pieces, not looking at Castiel. If you heard me and Sam, then you’d know why, Cas.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I understood, Dean," Castiel said. "Has it something to do with your father?"

Dean pushed the ham around, and took a big bite of ham, eggs, and half a piece of toast. Castiel watched him patiently, taking a few bites of food himself. When Castiel’s stare didn’t relent, Dean sighed, and put his fork down.

“I don’t like talking about my dad on a good day, Cas,” he began, and Castiel immediately tried to backpedal. However, Dean shook his head, and continued. “My mom died when I was four. There was a fire at my home - faulty wiring in the ceiling was the official ruling. It was a freak accident. I still remember mom pushing Sam into my arms as we ran out, and she went back in. We eventually figured that she tried to return for a case filled with all our papers and identification, as she was found near the family safe, dead from smoke inhalation.

“Dad was at work, and he came home to the house ablaze, firefighters trying to put out the large fire. They weren’t able to stop him from going into the house and trying to get my mom - he just ran in, and he must’ve seen or imagined something because when one of the firemen came in to get him out, he was mumbling something about hell, demons, and the like.

“It turns out, of course, that this event kickstarted his schizophrenia, and he just started seeing these monsters  _ everywhere _ ,” said Dean. He quickly swallowed some water, which gave Castiel time to ask a question.

“What is schizophrenia?”

Dean thought for a moment, then responded, “it’s a sickness that affects your brain, basically. With my dad, he started believing in and seeing things that aren’t real. Vampires, demons, and the like.

“He believed in them so much that he dragged me and Sam all over the country in order to “hunt” them down, and taught us everything he knew about these myths and legends. How to kill them, how to see the signs - it was pretty insane, Cas. I knew more about vampires than I did fucking geology. As kids, we thought of it as a game, or maybe, on some level, started to actually think it’s true.

“As we grew older, we started questioning things. Not to my dad’s face, maybe, but we started doing research of our own. Guess what we found,” said Dean, gesturing at Castiel.

“That they aren’t real,” Castiel said, deep in thought. Even in his land of magic, creatures like those are mere myths. Sure they had mages and magic, but not  _ all _ creatures of the night are real. More often than not, they were mere stories or myth that have been passed down from generation to generation. 

“That they aren’t real,  _ of course _ ,” Dean agreed. “At this point, dad was getting really erratic. He started drinking because of his grief, and eventually, because it made him feel less like he was going ‘mad’, his own words. He would be gone for days at a time and we wouldn’t know where he was - it turned out that he would either think he is out on a “hunt” for these creatures and would be stalking an unsuspecting person, be passed out drunk somewhere, or he’d been fixing up the house to create a shrine to our mother.

“Sammy and I stayed in touch with an old family friend, Bobby, during the whole time. He knew our mom and dad a while back, hell, he even apparently tried to date mom when they were kids (obviously it didn’t work out and they all remained friends). I tried to tell Bobby about dad’s behavior, but no one believed me. Everyone’d thought my dad was just a drunk asshole who leaves his kids sometimes at motels as he goes around doing odd jobs, which had been the lie he’s telling  _ everyone _ , and we were, unfortunately, just two kids that wanted and needed attention. Bobby did try to take us from our dad to give us some form of stability, but dad would always fetch us from Bobby’s place. Bobby can’t do anything of course - John was still technically our father, and reporting everything to child protective services will just fuck up the situation even further and would separate me and Sammy.

“It all came to a head when dad ended up in jail when I was 12, because he’d assaulted the man he believed to be the ‘yellow-eyed demon’ who’d killed my mom. Azazel turned out to be an old dentist who happened to live near our home that had always creeped mom out. I guess it got into dad’s head all twisted.

“He’d stormed Azazel’s home and shot him in the chest with a special antique gun he kept calling ‘The Colt’.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, “He shot someone, like in the moving pictures you have been showing me?”

Dean smiled slightly, but the mirth didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, Cas, like that.”

“I didn’t think they were actually real.”

“Oh, they’re very real,” said Dean, “and very, very deadly. The man had died on the spot, and the police caught my dad soon after. “He’d given himself up - his quest was over, after all.”

“With your father with the ‘police’, where did they take him, the dungeons?”

“We call it ‘prison’ now Cas,” Dean pointed out. “He was sentenced to guilty of first-degree murder, but since he’s sick they had him sent to a psychiatric facility instead - where everyone’s who’s sick with similar diseases go.

“It wasn’t easy for us. Me and Sam went to the state’s care. Due to our age difference - he was seven, I was twelve - we were separated. Bobby lost track of us, as he wasn’t actually related to us and that’s what mattered to the court. Luckily, he found Sam first.

“I’d been passed around from foster home to foster home by then - nowhere permanent, until Bobby found me a couple of years after and adopted me. It wasn’t easy, Cas,” Dean had gone back to pushing around whatever was left of his food. “Anyway, my point is, I know how it feels to be displaced from home. I know how it feels to be “taken care of” by the government, I’ve seen how it is to be thought of as “crazy” and be fed a ton of pills every day until you’re catatonic.”

Dean looked up, and smiled at Castiel. “I guess I just didn’t want anyone to go through that, not if I can help it.”

"You are a good man, Dean," Castiel proclaimed. "Thank you."

"I'm just doing the right thing," said Dean, blushing, as he looked away and bit into his toast. "It's what anyone else would have done."

"No, they wouldn't have, and you know it," Castiel insisted. "Do not downplay what you have done for me. So, thank you."

Dean nodded, and looked up at Castiel. "Then you're welcome Cas." They sat in a few minutes of comfortable silence, both of them slowly finishing their food. 

After a while, Castiel looked up, smiling. "I hope I can make it up to you someday." 

Dean then grinned, and shoved the rest of his meal into his mouth. He patted Castiel's shoulder as he got up. "You can start by washing the dishes. Thanks Cas!"

Castiel eyed the plates and pans they used to cook. He shrugged, and said, "Sure thing, Dean." Even if it was one tiny action, maybe it was a good start. 

It had been slow at work, later that same night. Staying at the register was boring, and so Castiel started to clean up around the small shop. He avoided the slushie machine pointedly, remembering the mess he'd had the other day, and grabbed the broom from the back room. 

The mindless, repetitive action of cleaning brought Castiel back to the conversation he had with Dean. 

Admittedly, some of Dean's words were a little lost on him, but he understood the hardship of having a parent be sick and die. 

His mother wasn't as lucky as Dean's - it took her months, and Castiel watched her fade slowly. None of them were quite the same after that. Castiel found himself more nervous around the royal physician and avoided the tower where his mother spent her last days.

Dean had had two terrible experiences, and had come out stronger for it. He even used it to help others. 

Castiel smiled. He knew that Dean was special from the moment he was lucid enough to realize what was happening. Castiel would do everything in his power to make sure Dean was happy. 

Is this how it feels to be-

The bell above the door rang, indicating that somebody went inside the store. 

Castiel, with his broom in one hand, went to check out who went in. He made his way to the cash register, and was met with a heavy-looking metal object to his face. 

"Give me all the fucking money, and you'll survive."

Castiel cocked his head to the side, eyeing the black object. "Is that a gun?"

"Yes, it's a fucking gun, you have a death wish? Get me the damn cash and put it in this bag already!"

"I have never seen one in person before," Castiel said, still watching the other man with interest. "The movies made them seem rather concerning, and I suppose they do look more menacing in real life."

The gunman's hold wavered, his brows knitted in confusion. "Just get on with it!"

Castiel cocked his head in acquiescence, and moved towards the register. 

Then he tipped forward and allowed himself to fall. The gunman flinched, and lowered his gun slightly. Castiel used this to his advantage, moving quickly to his left and pushing the gun away. The other man fired, and Castiel flinched slightly at the sound. He ignored the tinnitus in his ears and let the  _ Yolcham _ fall into his grip, and with one move he sliced down on the gun, which split apart. 

The criminal's eyes widened, and he turned to run out. Castiel followed through with a sweep of his leg, and the other man fell. Castiel took the opportunity to jump on his back, and using his ID lanyard, tied the other man's hands up. 

Still sitting on his back, he grabbed his phone and dialed. 

"Hello, Dean."

"Cas?" The other man's groggy voice came through. "It's the middle of the night. Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Yes, I am. A man just tried to rob the store, and I've subdued him. I am calling to ask what I should do next."

He could hear something shift, and Dean sounded a little more alert. "What the fuck? Cas are you hurt?"

"No, but I think I broke this man's leg," Castiel said. "Will I get in any trouble with the law for this?"

"No!" Dean quickly yelled. "It's self-defense- Castiel, dial 911 on your phone and call the police. Explain to them what happened, and give them your address. I'm on my way. And call your manager too!"

Castiel did as he was told, and the police arrived quickly and took the other man away. Just as Castiel was talking to an officer about what happened, Castiel heard the squeak of tires on pavement. He looked up and saw Dean, looking absolutely stressed, sprinting purposefully towards him.

"You're okay!" Dean said, and grabbed Castiel's shoulder.

In one smooth action, he then gave Castiel a kiss full on the mouth, and then drew back. 

They both blinked at each other for a bit. Dean turned away, and Castiel cleared his throat. The prince turned back to the officer. "Ah, sorry about that, where were we officer?"

The officer merely looked amused, but she then continued. "You were explaining about how the gun ended up in half."

Behind the officer, Castiel could see Dean's apprehensive facial expression, and his light shaking of the head. Castiel tipped his head, and looked straight at the officer, and lied, "I don't know what happened. One thing I knew I was defending myself and shoved his gun aside, and then it just split apart. It was bizarre."

The cop raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it. "And he fell when?"

"I held my foot out as he ran, and subdued him by sitting on his back and tying his hands with the only thing I can think of, my ID," Castiel said. "My friend is waiting for me, officer, and I think I should close and go home for the night."

The officer nodded, and waved Castiel away. "There shouldn't be a problem because we recognize this perp and he's wanted for a few other things, but we'll contact you in case we need you Mr. Aetherys."

"Thanks officer," Castiel said, nodding. The officer went back to her partner, and Castiel walked over to Dean. He was almost there when he saw Nora in the distance, looking bewildered at what was happening.

"Castiel! Are you okay?"

Castiel nodded at her calmly, and spoke quietly, "everything's fine, Nora. He wasn't successful in his attempt to steal. However, I have broken my ID and for that I do apologize."

"The ID isn't as important as your safety! Look, why don't you go home. It's almost 5 AM, I'll have one of the others come in and take your shift. I think they're leaving an officer behind anyway just in case, so they will be safe. You should rest now, I'm sure this hasn't been easy on you!"

"I'm safe, Nora. Everything is fine, I have prevented the crime," said Castiel. "I can still-"

"Yes, thanks, he'll take that offer," Dean put in. "Sorry, hi, I'm Cas's roommate, Dean. He's just too good of a worker to say no, but he needs it."

"Dean-" But Dean already had his hand on the back of Castiel's neck, and was already guiding the other man away. "Thank you so much Nora, I'll get him settled and he'll see you again tomorrow." 

"He can take a day off or two to recover, if needed!" Nora shouted after them.

Dean waved a hand, and yelled back, "he'll text you! And we'll pick up his car later!"

Nora waved at them, and Dean helped Castiel into the Impala. Once Castiel was in, he got around to the driver's side, and sat with the doors closed. He turned to Castiel. "You okay Cas?"

"Why would I not be?"

"You just came face to face with a gunman who  _ tried to rob your place of work _ ," said Dean. "At best it is terrifying, at worst it's traumatic!"

Castiel smiled. "Thank you for your concern, Dean. It was terrifying, but do remember I'm a knight, not to mention a prince. I have seen my own fair share of battle, and the gun was just another weapon. If I die, I die," he looked away, "my only regret would be not being able to go back home."

Dean nodded, then patted Castiel on the back. He exhaled. "Glad you're okay, bud." He started the engine then, and they headed back home. 

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yes Cas?"

"About… about that kiss…"

There was silence, and Castiel watched as Dean seemed to struggle about what to say. Castiel decided to spare Dean the pain and the awkwardness, and said, "I haven't been kissed like that since cook had been so ecstatic I got his brother out of the dungeon and pardoned his unfounded crimes." He started chuckling, and Dean followed suit, albeit he sounded a little off, somehow. "That was a touch awkward, my kiss from that cook, but he seemed very happy and relieved. I'm sure you are too," Castiel finished. 

Dean smiled at him again, but nothing seemed to truly reach his eyes. "Yeah, happy and relieved, definitely."

There really was something about Dean's expression that didn't feel right to Castiel, but he let it go, figuring that Dean would tell him what it was if he wanted to, or was ready. 

Today had made him remember his duties as a knight protecting his realm from monsters and other beings with malicious intent. He felt important again, and he couldn't help but feel pain for his land, and the need to return intensified once more. He would find a way back soon enough, he hoped. 

He eyed the man beside him. Dean looked like he was concentrating on the road, but when he noticed Castiel watching him, he smiled at him before he turned back.

If nothing else, Castiel thought, at least he was with Dean. 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean couldn’t stop thinking about the attempted robbery, and how Castiel came so close to possibly dying, and how his sense of relief had overrode his brain and he did… that. 

He had just gone to sleep when he received Castiel’s call. All he heard were the words ‘rob the store’, and that jolted him awake faster than a bucket of cold water could have done. Robberies meant guns, and Castiel didn’t know guns, never seen guns, hell, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Castiel underestimated the damage guns do. Even if Dean was sure he heard Castiel tell him that he was just fine, he needed to see it for himself.

All he could think of as he drove above the speed limit was that Castiel had to be just fine, because he didn’t think he could live alone without a roommate any longer.

Or maybe, he couldn’t live without _Castiel_ any longer?

Dean should just accept it: he had feelings for Castiel, and he should just ask him out.

Despite the whole prince thing, and the Aetherys thing, and maybe even the damn _Yolcham_ thing - maybe, just maybe, he should. Shouldn’t he?

He gave himself a week to think, then figured that he should just take the plunge and make a move, against all the screaming logic in his head. After all, his best ideas were made on the spur of the moment, like taking in a man who’d stabbed his car through the windshield with a sword.

Dean cleared his schedule, and made sure Castiel experienced proper, good homemade food. He made his special burgers, and fried up some onion rings and thick-cut fries. He made a small salad as well with his own vinaigrette, and made an apple pie that would make his mom proud. He even broke the ice cream maker out of the cupboard and made his own vanilla ice cream. 

Dean was pulling the pie from the over when Castiel received a call, and was whisked away off to take a shift. Dean wasn’t even able to tell him what he was doing for tonight and how special it was supposed to be. Nora’s kid was sick, and Castiel, bless his heart, was nice enough to take her shift.

All Dean could do was to wrap up a burger and some onion rings, and hope that they survive the night ‘til Castiel’s lunch.

Then he set the spread, and proceeded to eat his wonderfully-made food alone. 

The stereo started up, and _Somebody to Love_ started blaring from the speakers, and all Dean could do was to laugh mirthlessly.

There was a knock at the door, and Dean looked through the peephole.

“Aren’t you going to welcome the return of your queen?” 

Dean opened the door with a wide grin. A redhead with a travel pillow slung around her neck and a pair of earbuds stuffed in her ears waved at Dean with her free hand, the other dragging a big suitcase behind her. “I’m back, bitches!”

“Charlie!” Dean enveloped her in a big, warm hug, and ushered her inside. “How long have you been back? How was the trip?”

“Where did you go? What did you do?” Charlie said in a deep voice, mimicking Dean with a wink. “All will be answered, after I find out what smells _amazing_. Did you cook for me, Dean Winchester?”

“Ah…”  
  
“Ooo, burgers, fries, onions, salad, _pie and ice cream_? I know I didn’t miss your birthday. Just felt like giving yourself some love?”

Dean smiled wryly, and handed Charlie a burger, and shoved the side dishes at her. “Help yourself.” 

“Definitely,” Charlie said, and sat across from Dean and started to eat. 

All Dean could do was to watch. He had hoped that he would be eating with someone else, but Charlie was the next best thing. Now he felt slightly guilty thinking of his best friend as his second choice. He was really hoping that he could maybe get some time with Castiel, and work out whatever he was feeling. This dinner was his way of testing the waters, somehow, and the plan had pretty much went FUBAR right there. 

His mind kept going back to that kiss. 

The relief that he felt when he saw Castiel unscathed and unharmed overtook him, and he just took his housemate’s face and gave him a deep, strong kiss on the lips. Castiel was taken by surprise, _Dean_ was taken by surprise, and he stepped back immediately, eyes wide.

Dean was sure that Castiel softened, just a touch, unless he was just imagining it?

He just kissed Castiel, and why didn’t it feel awkward?

“You okay, Dean?” Charlie said, as Dean had been quiet for the past five minutes now, not commenting on anything Charlie had said about her trip. 

Dean looked up, blinking at Charlie. Charlie waved a fry at him. “You have that deer-in-the-headlights look about you. You haven’t been listening to me,” pouted his friend. Dean gave her a small, sheepish smile, and Charlie continued. “Say it. What is it? Or…” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Who is it?” 

Dean sighed, and leaned back, dropping his half-finished burger on the plate. “I met a man,” Dean replied, deadpan, and Charlie clapped her hands once.

“Hallelujah!”

Dean frowned at her slightly. “Charlie…”

Charlie smiled widely. “Heeey, I haven’t seen that patented Sam bitchface in a while! How’s your brother, the yeti?”

“He’s been fine,” Dean replied distractedly, bewildered with Charlie’s reaction. “What do you mean, ‘hallelujah?”

“Look Dean, you’ve been so tense,” Charlie explained between bites of her burger. “During the last LARP, you picked a fight with the other kingdom’s messenger for no reason. My council was betting between an intense round of fucking or a duel to the death in the courtyard.”

Dean frowned. “Why is everybody so interested in my lovelife?”

“One, it’s just been me, and two, I just want to see you happy, Dean,” She said. Charlie pulled her chair closer to Dean, and nudged him with an elbow. “So, tell me all about him, hotshot! Is he cute? Does he understand you, and your thoughts and feelings, and make you feel all twitterpated inside? Have you had sex yet?”

“Those are three very, very different questions,” Dean responded, and without missing a beat, Charlie parried, “And you have answered none of them.”

Dean raised his hands in defeat. He knew Charlie wouldn’t let go of this information, and he might as well just give in. He needs some advice, anyway, and she always pulls through. “His name is Castiel, and he is my new roommate.”

Charlie whistled. “Ooo, intrigue. Do go on.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, I’m nowhere near done eating, plus we have dessert. We have all the time in the world..”

He began with how he met Castiel, to which Charlie had reacted with general amusement and bewilderment. He then talked about how Castiel believed he was who he kept saying he was-a prince from another realm, or something as such. Then he launched into how he showed off the workshop, and that spark of connection that made Dean feel giddy and _uncertain_. 

And then he talked about the kiss, and Charlie's amused-I'm-happy-for-you vibe slowly morphed into something sympathetic. 

“Oh," Charlie said. "I missed so many things while I'm away. That kiss sounded like _something_.” 

“Yeah," Dean said, and took a bite out of his burger quickly, unsure what else to say. "It felt comfortable, natural, and I'm confused as to how it could feel so easy, when there is _nothing_ easy about whatever this is."

“I don’t know what to say Dean, he sounds pretty perfect for you," Charlie pointed out. "His reaction to the kiss makes it sound like he thought it was awkward for _you_ , and wanted to salvage it, but not because he didn't want it." Charlie piled her plate with some salad and fries. "And the way he knows and respects your profession? He even knows how to make his own sword! Ah, we could use that for our sessions!" Charlie declared. "Maybe you should bring him along. He already has a costume, so he could be a knight, or hell, maybe our blacksmith or something.”

Dean looked thoughtful for a moment, and spoke up. “I think he’d be better as a knight, and - hey, no, no, we are talking about the main issue here, first!”

"What, exactly? The kiss?"

Dean shook his head. "Didn't think that was an issue as much as the "prince" problem. Just can't get past it."

“Dean, people have believed in crazier. Tons of people believe that the earth is _flat_ for fuck’s sake,” Charlie pointed out.

“He thinks he’s from another realm, another _land_ , Charlie," Dean insisted. Charlie's reaction was actually making him feel better, but he felt like he had to keep _pushing_ , because this wasn't normal, it wasn't okay. Right?

“Look, coming from the girl who dated a really hot chick who thought she was a literal fairy, this shouldn’t be a dealbreaker," Charlie mused. She then looked at Dean with concern. "Unless he’s been dangerous to you, or the people around them. Has he been?”

“No!" Dean immediately answered. "No, of course not. If he was, I would have called Bobby to take him away months ago.”

“There you have it, then it shouldn’t be a problem!" Charlie speared lettuce with her fork, and waved it at Dean. "Besides, it’s not like you wanna to marry him in the future, or anything like that, right?”

Dean grew quiet, thoughtfully chewing on food. He swallowed, and thought that he should just take the plunge. “But what if… what if it feels like it could be, Charlie?”

Charlie seemed taken aback, but recovered with a slowly widening grin. “I say damn, who are you and what did you do to Dean Winchester?”

Dean groaned. “Everything feels so easy, at ease with him, but with his mental state - I can’t get over it Charlie, I don’t really know what to do.”

“Look, you like him enough, Dean, why don’t you give it a shot? I’m not talking about marrying the guy _now_ , just _date_ him."

“Date him?”

“Well, yes, Dean, that’s how relationships tend to start, isn’t it?” Charlie deadpanned.

Dean frowned, as if this never occurred to him. “Red, I don’t know if I can. Or if I should. He’s one of my best friends. I don’t really want to ruin that.”

“Here’s how I see it - if he’s telling the truth, then you adjust your world view. If he isn’t, then you find help for him," said Charlie. "Either way, you can move past it and still be together if you _choose_ to, Dean.”

Dean shifted in his seat, and gritted his teeth, as if saying what he felt physically pained him."I keep thinking of… well, I keep thinking about Dad," he paused lengthily, trying to muster up the courage to say what he wanted to say. Dean felt a foot kick him in the shin, and he looked up to see Charlie staring at him intently. Dean sighed. "Charlie, what if Sam’s right, or even Bobby. What if this is another John? I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t know if - am I going batshit crazy, liking someone who's also nuts?

"Did Dad damage me that much that I’m falling in love with someone who thinks he is a prince from another realm and I just think ‘Hey, this is probably okay?’” 

Charlie frowned, and placed a hand on top of Dean's shoulder. "You're your own person, Dean. And yeah, our parents can still impact our lives long after they’re gone, but John’s shadow doesn’t have to loom over your decisions. You have these questions and concerns that are obviously messing with your head. You like Cas a lot, but this whole ‘prince’ thing is a huge hurdle for you - and that’s okay, you’re just being cautious, right?

“This isn’t insurmountable. Not if you have an outsider to look at it from a bird eye’s view, so to speak."

Charlie hummed, and brightened. "So! We'll be larping next week right? You should bring him along, introduce me! I'm good at sniffing out the crazies and all. I can look him up, as well, after I've talked to him, which you should have done in the first place and _introduced us_ ," Charlie said, punching Dean lightly on the shoulder.

Dean rubbed his shoulder, and smiled at Charlie lightly. “You’re probably right.”

Charlie shook her head. “Oh Winchester, how long have you been keeping this inside?”

Dean gave her a wan smile. Charlie shook her head, and went over to Dean, giving him a hug from behind. “Don’t you dare keep doing that to yourself handmaiden. You knew I was a skype call away.”

“I know, I know,” Dean said. “Just thought I could deal with it on my own.”

Charlie went back to spot at the table, and just when she sat down - 

_I can’t get no satisfaction, I can’t get no satisfaction_

Dean groaned, and Charlie started in her chair. “What-?”

“Did I tell you that music has been following me everywhere?”

Charlie blinked at him, and Dean explained, “Wherever I go, whenever I think about Cas, music just starts up for no reason. It’s pretty damn weird.”

Charlie popped a fry into her mouth, and sat back, grinning. “Are you sure you still don’t believe Castiel is actually a prince? I mean, if the music fits, we might just make you into a wonderful Disney princess.”

Dean had just finished his stack of chocolate chip pancakes when he heard the door click open, and shut soon after. "Breakfast?" He called out, and Castiel appeared in the archway that led to the living room. 

"What smells amazing? Ah, pancakes!" He said eagerly, and sat on the stool at the kitchen island. "Great end to my long day."

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate. Dean ate one pancake after the next, as if he could imbibe courage via large quantities of flour and sugar. He kept an eye on Castiel as he ate as well, trying to gauge when the man would finish. 

Dean might be stalling, but he was also determined to actually do this.

"So, Cas," Dean started, just as soon as Castiel ate his last bite. "I was thinking-"

Castiel's large blue eyes stared back at him innocuously, and Dean’s bravery suddenly left him. 

What if he has no idea about how Dean feels and this was just Dean's imagination, and the times they lll7spent together, the ease with how they moved around the kitchen and around the home, their bond over Dean's work, are not real-

Castiel had seemed to decide that Dean was taking too long to speak up. "Dean," he said, "are you courting me?"

Dean choked on his own spit, and started coughing. Castiel slid a glass of orange juice towards him, and Dean gratefully drank. Dean wheezed, "No? What makes you think so?"

"You have been cooking food lately that I have expressed I appreciated. You brought me to your workshop and let me use your tools, and from woodworkers and blacksmiths I know, they can be particular with what they own. You let me choose what to listen to in the Impala, which you never allowed before," Castiel tapped a finger for each sentence, then paused. "You kissed me after the store robbery." 

Dean pursed his lips, and exhaled. In for a penny, in for a pound. He gave Castiel his best Blue Steel and his flirtiest slow smile. Then, with confidence he couldn't feel, said, "I don't know anything about courting Cas, but I do like you, and I won’t say no to a date?"

Castiel's face erupted into a wide smile, and he said, "A date, then.”

“A date,” Dean echoed, and smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been surprisingly busy, and Castiel hadn’t had the chance to have a quiet moment by himself the whole night, including the supposedly dead hours beyond 11 PM. He was busy grabbing boxes of candy bars so he could restock when he heard the bell ring. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting to lock the door again while he was away from the register, but someone had already come in. "I'll be with you in a second!" Castiel announced.

"Cassie?"

The box slid from his grip once he heard the familiar voice. He immediately rushed into the store proper. "Gabriel?"

"Cassie!" His brother had always been remarkably quick, and before Castiel knew it, Gabriel had him in his arms. "Stars, Castiel, I didn't think I'd ever see you again!"

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, brother," Castiel said wryly, and Gabriel chuckled. “But I am glad to see you too.”

"This realm is sarding  _ massive;  _ it’s next to impossible to find you. Do you know that they have flying machines to go from island to island?"

Castiel cocked his head. "You mean airplanes?"

"Yes, airplanes," Gabriel said, grinning. He looked his brother up and down, and grabbed his ID to take a quick look at the information on it. "Nice to see you’ve, how would you say it, ‘assimilated’ well, knowing the lingo and all." 

Castiel didn't respond to his brother’s condescension. He instead asked, "How have you been? What happened to you? I lost you once we entered the portal."

Gabriel sighed, and frowned at Castiel. "It seems like it spits you out in different places per person. I landed in the middle of a shopping mall. It wasn't pretty."

"Did you attack a mannequin?" 

"Why would I attack a mannequin? What an odd question,” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I only stole some clothes and almost got detained for the sword."

Castiel smiled slightly. He turned to lock the door, just to make sure they weren’t disturbed, and then leaned against the counter. "I attacked a car."

Gabriel snorted. "Damn. And it survived?" 

"Thankfully,” Castiel said. “Dean might not have forgiven me if I used the Yolcham and permanently ended his Baby."

"Ooh, Dean. Sounds promising," Gabriel leered.

Castiel crossed his arms. "He was the one who found me."

"And…?"

Castiel shrugged. "He's my roommate."

"Just a roommate?"

Castiel paused. He thought of how soft Dean's lips were after that  _ kiss _ , and how Dean, for a while after that, insisted that Castiel only get a night shift if he had a co-worker with him, how Dean never failed to have breakfast with him, and that first date.

Dean took him to their favourite diner, with Missouri congratulating them before they could even say a word. Then they went for a drive to the nearest nature trail and had a nice time hiking. After that, they went to the workshop and worked on a  _ real _ sword Dean could use for a LARP exhibition, whatever a LARP was. 

It felt so natural. It was wonderful.

“Earth to Prince Castiel?”

"It's getting there."

"I have to meet this man who did what a hundred other princes and princesses did not."

Castiel barked laughter. "My shift ends at 6." 

“And what did you expect me to do while you’re working?”

Castiel slipped past his brother and walked back to the stockroom, and Gabriel followed him. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. You already know most of mine,” said Castiel, and he handed his brother a small box of instant noodles and waved him off to help stock. Gabriel obliged. “Found a new roommate I might be falling in love with, working the night shift, living mundanely as I await a miracle to occur that would bring me back to our land, but I know  _ nothing  _ about you.”

Gabriel stopped what he was doing, and Castiel would see him clutch a pack of ramen dramatically to his chest. “You might be falling in love? Awww, Cassie, I can’t believe it!”

Castiel glared, and Gabriel cackled. When Gabriel’s laughter died down and when he had stocked at least half of his box, he started, “Let’s start with the police station.”

“You ended up at a police station?”

“Of my own volition,” Gabriel said wryly. “I know it sounds naive of me - and really, when can you  _ ever _ say I’m  _ naive _ , of all things? But I went to a police station once I got out of the mall. The uniforms do look official, and you know that they are in a position of authority.

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware at first that they didn’t have magic in this world - and thus didn’t understand the weird looks they gave me until they asked me if I was on drugs.

“I said I don’t know what drugs are,” Gabriel said, and Castiel winced.

“They didn’t take that nicely, did they?”

“Got it in one. You might already see where this is heading. I think someone realized I had a sword at my side. They didn’t rush me, per se, but they did menacingly approach me like I was a wild animal they were going to roast for dinner. I’m not used to being viewed as a prey  _ or _ predator, and I can’t even talk to these damn  _ humans _ to calm them down.

“I didn’t get to really finish my statement about Aetherys, and before I even moved or said anything, they leaped at me and I toppled, and I had a couple of them piled on top of me so I can’t move.

“Remember when we found a roc in the castle grounds, and about 30 of our knights pounced in order to keep it from flying?”

Castiel nodded.

“Yeah, I now know what that roc felt like. So, they cuffed me, booked me, and someone swabbed my cheek with a cotton swab, then declared I wasn’t high, but the breathalyzer - what they use to determine if you’re drunk -”

“I know what that means, Gabriel,” Castiel responded, and Gabriel shrugged. 

“Sorry little bro, I’m just used to having to explain things to you,” Gabriel said. Castiel gave him a dirty look in response. He wasn’t always that clueless. “Anyway, I’d drunk a lot of mead before we headed out, so they tossed me in the drunk tank. It was like sleeping with ten Uriels after a night of drinking hard spirits, and crashing in a stable they already fucked up beforehand. I didn’t get  _ any _ sleep, and had to stumble out of the station in broad daylight without knowing where the hell to go.

“It’s how I found the animal shelter,” Gabriel said. “I just kept hearing barks of a halfway house from animals off in the distance, and figured that I will head in that direction just to get my bearings and see if there was something for me there. If they cared about animals, maybe they’d care about people as well.”

Castiel had passed on another box to Gabriel, and they carried them to the beverage fridge. Before they began to work, Castiel passed a bottle of black coffee to Gabriel, who frowned at it. “What’s this?”

Castiel blinked at him. “Coffee?”

“This is poison, Cassie. Toss me that white one,” Gabriel said, and Castiel obliged. Gabriel twisted the cap open, and drank with a sigh.

Castiel watched amusedly. “Did you enjoy your milk with coffee?”   


“Look, Cassie, I know you’re bitter, but you should lighten up with something sweet,” Gabriel said. He raised his coffee, and waggled his eyebrows.

Castiel sighed, and they both continued packing. “Remind me to ring that up and have you pay for it later.”

“But I thought you’re giving it to me for free!”

“Not after that comment, no,” Castiel drawled, and snickered to himself. “So you were at the shelter?”

Gabriel took another sip, and then nodded. “As soon as I came closer, the cacophony of animal sounds became much, much louder than I anticipated. There were  _ so many _ , and it sounded like a room filled with our constituents when they make requests in the morning. I went in and asked if I could see the animals.

“Kali - the owner - looked at me funny. But she finished up with her customer and told me I could go in, but first I'd have to ditch the sword and the armor. So I stripped. In her lobby." Gabriel smirked at the memory. "Gave her quite a show."

“Tell me she threw you out,” Castiel said, and Gabriel tossed his empty bottle at him. Castiel laughed. 

“She actually took it very well,  _ very well _ , and I had a job at the shelter the next day,” Gabriel finished, and Castiel stared at him.

“I refuse to believe that is how the story went and ended, Gabriel.”

“Hey, what can I say, I’m a charmer!”

Castiel said nothing, and continued to stock the fridge. Once he was done, he grabbed his box and took them back to the store room, closing the door behind him, and then paused. He waited behind the door with a slight grin, letting his brother stew for a few seconds. didn’t come out for a couple of minutes to see what his brother would do.

It didn’t take long at all. Before Castiel could even turn the knob to grab a peek, Gabriel was already knocking at the door, and calling out for Castiel to come out. “Come back, okay, obviously, that’s not how it ended, let me tell you the rest!”

Castiel grinned, and stepped out, leading Gabriel back to the till. “Still works, even as we age.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, “Really, Castiel, resorting to theatrics?”

“Theatrics? Me? Which one of us couldn’t handle not having an audience?” Castiel proclaimed, and Gabriel hit him lightly on the back of the head. 

“Anyway, I changed into some scrubs they gave me so I can take a look at the animals,” Gabriel continued. “It was  _ so loud _ , Cas. I had to shout at the top of my lungs so that everyone - cats, dogs, would shut up, or at the very least, take turns telling me what the hell was happening.

“When I entered, I had dogs on one side of the room, and cats on the other, and there was a thin curtain separating the two. It looked a little cramped, honestly, and even though all of the animals had mostly shut up, I have this one pup moaning and crying about how his family had left him, and he didn’t mean to be a bad dog.

“It was heartbreaking, and I had to comfort him and tell him that it was going to be okay. I announced, loudly, for everyone’s sake, that humans can be dicks to animals because they didn’t understand they had feelings too, and that it would get better because they were at a nice place who would find them forever homes.

“One of the other cats started meowing about her dead owner and how the owner’s kits can’t take care of her due to allergies, and said that she missed taking care of older people. Another was complaining about the dogs on the other side of the room, and how he missed having a cats-only place to stay in. I just started to talk to them quietly and calmly, just hearing what they wanted to say and letting them kind of just vent.

“Everyone was pretty happy to finally have a  _ human _ understand them.

“They all had plenty of stories to tell, and it was a cacophony until I had them shut up and take turns. I didn’t know how long it had been until a couple of panicked staff, including Kali, came in to see what was happening. They breathed a sigh of relief once they realised that everything was fine, and was shocked to see that everyone was calm,  _ very calm _ . 

“After that, explaining my situation to her - my lack of a place to stay, food, clothing - had gone much easier. She let me live there for the next two months, as an unpaid ‘volunteer’ at night and a sort-of paid one in the morning, until I,” Gabriel chuckled, “must have finally needled her into going out with me. I live at her place now, and we’re working on raising more funds at the shelter so we can give these animals what they deserve.”

Castiel leaned back against the shelf behind him, and smiled at his brother. “I’m glad to hear that you were safe, brother,” he said. “Also, that would be 2.99.”

“What?”

“The coffee was about three dollars.”

“Unbelievable,” Gabriel growled, and handed Castiel some cash. Castiel grinned, and proceeded to process the payment.

“For what it’s worth though, Gabriel, I am glad that you seem to have found a place to belong,” Castiel said quietly.

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. “I do too.”

Castiel took Gabriel with him when his shift ended. They grabbed some donuts and a breakfast pie for Dean before heading back to the house. He nervously announced, "I brought a visitor, I hope it's okay?"

Dean poked his head out of the kitchen. "Of course, Cas, place is yours too. And this is..?"

"Gabriel, my brother," Castiel said. He led Gabriel into the room, and put the food down on the kitchen counter. “I bought breakfast.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Your brother - THE, brother? You found your brother!” He grinned widely, and reached out a hand to clap Castiel on the shoulder. “That is amazing news, Castiel!" He looked at Gabriel, sizing him up with a glance. "I can't believe it - how’d you find him? Where’s he been? Where's he from?"

"He found me actually. He came into the Gas’N’Sip, and he’s been trying to find me, too,” Castiel said. He frowned. “What do you mean where’s he from? Aetherys, of course."

Dean’s face fell. "Ah."

Castiel sighed. Lately, it seemed like every mention of Aetherys made Dean go quiet, even more now that they had started dating. "Dean-"

"We’re from overseas. Somewhere in Lithuania," Gabriel said immediately. "Aetherys, Lithuania." Castiel frowned at Gabriel’s lie, but didn’t say anything yet. “We grew up there, and then migrated here. We were on the way to Topeka when the accident happened.”

“An accident?” Dean seemed to perk up, and that was when Castiel understood. Dean still didn’t believe him. 

He didn’t believe any of it.  _ Aetherys _ , his heritage, hell, even after seeing the  _ Yolcham _ , Dean had probably dismissed it at some sort of party trick.

“There was a car crash as we came home from a costume party. When I came to in the wreck, Cassie was just  _ gone. _ I lost him completely. Thought he’d somehow wandered off maybe his head, got confused - something. I’ve been laid up trying to recuperate and hadn’t had the chance to actually do anything about it until, by chance, I found him at the Gas n’ Sip as I went back to Lawrence to finally file a report.”

Even as Castiel listened to Gabriel’s lies, he still couldn’t believe what was happening. It  _ hurt _ , hearing this conversation. It was like they were erasing the truth, and it didn’t sit well with him. So he stood up, and simply walked out of the kitchen. 

He was making an effort to be truthful to Dean - wasn’t that what relationships should be about? Was he meant to simply lie about his life? He was a Prince of Aetherys, and that was a fact. Why couldn’t just Dean believe him?

After a while, Gabriel followed him out onto the porch. Castiel was sitting on the steps, and felt his brother plop down beside him. “Dean wanted to talk to you, but I told him I’d take this one.”

“Why did you lie?” Castiel asked quietly. He didn’t look at Gabriel.

Gabriel slung his arm over Castiel. “Ah brother, you haven’t changed one bit.”

Castiel looked up angrily. “And neither have you. You still make jokes about things that shouldn’t be joked about, Gabriel! My relationship with Dean, my honesty about where we come from is  _ not _ a joke!”

“It isn’t about honesty, Castiel!” Gabriel answered. “It’s about reality.”

“This is  _ our _ reality, Gabriel, we are from another land and we are not of this Earth! Have you become too attached to your life here that you have forgotten everything? You can talk to damn animals, for heaven’s sake - you work at a shelter because of this!”

Gabriel shook his head, sighing. “Cassie, this world doesn’t have magic like ours. You have seen how they treat magic here - a bunch of parlor tricks, or fiction. Anyone who believes in things we know of as reality are seen as batshit crazy,” Gabriel explained. “That’s why you lie, even to the ones you love.” 

Gabriel looked at the door behind them, and Castiel did too, knowing that Dean was just behind the door. “Look, I know you care about Dean, but until we have further proof, or a way out, you can’t be slinging around information about Aetherys. You’ll be viewed as high, or drunk, or worse,  _ insane _ ,” Gabriel said. “Look, I know you’ve been telling Dean the truth, but I think you need to draw back on talking about Aetherys from now on.”

“Gabriel, I can’t,” Castiel said.

“Why not?”

“Ignoring our land’s existence? Pretending too much like we belong here?” Castiel looked at Gabriel. “It feels too much like I’m giving up. It feels like I’m accepting like I have no choice but to assimilate, like I can’t ever go back.

“Aetherys is in danger. Luca is in danger, and we are stuck here, Gabriel. We are stuck here and we can’t do anything about it.” Castiel looked away.

Gabriel slung an arm around his brother. “Look, I sure as hell ain’t giving up on Aetherys, and I’m trying to look for ways to look back as well. Surely someone in this world has figured out how to travel realms. Somehow.”

Castiel rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closed his eyes. Gabriel was right, of course. And he’d got Gabriel, now - he could talk about Aetherys to his heart’s content. He had someone to  _ fight with _ , someone who understood, someone who could find a way out with him. It was more than what he had before.

He then nodded, and looked up with resolve on his face. “I’ll strive to blend in more carefully, just to adapt - your presence makes me feel at ease, having someone who shares the same reality as I do,” he said. Gabriel gave him a pat on the back. They were quiet for a short while, when Castiel sighed. “Gabriel, I keep thinking about how we left Aetherys, how Rowena turned against us. It sounds impossible, and yet Luca…”

Gabriel didn’t speak, and Castiel turned to look at Gabriel, who looked deep in thought. “It hurt when Luca told me about her,” confided Gabriel. “It feels impossible. There was no sign, no clue that she wanted the throne for herself. I cannot believe that there were no other clues aside from the texts and spells Luca supposedly found marked in her quarters. You’d think she’d leave  _ more _ \- you’d think I’d  _ know _ more.”

Castiel clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We have to understand that sometimes, the person we know the most is the one we don’t know at all.”

Both fell quiet, and watched as the world slowly woke up around them, and as the sky grew lighter. “Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Luca was making it up. He was the one who shoved us into a different realm, after all,” Gabriel remarked.

Castiel looked at him in horror, but Gabriel didn’t look at all bothered, like it was simply an idea he had been toying without much seriousness. Gabriel was joking, albeit mirthlessly, and Castiel could see it in his eyes. Castiel worked to calm himself down. 

It couldn’t be possible, could it? Luca was their brother. He wouldn’t betray them.

Castiel recalled when their father talked to Gabriel about his abilities when he turned fifteen. The king told him that Gabriel’s abilities manifested so that he could understand his brother better since Luca was a shapeshifter. Oftentimes Luca couldn’t communicate with other humans when he was in animal form. Luca was blessed with the abilities to protect their land, and Gabriel to be their diplomat.

When Castiel’s time came, and the  _ Yolcham _ appeared, his father was quiet during the ceremony. He never said anything about his brothers to Castiel, but instead told him to be ready to protect the realm no matter what. Castiel had always taken that to heart.

Castiel nodded to himself. Whatever happened, he would find a way back, and he would protect his home, no matter what.


	10. Chapter 10

It was the Saturday before Memorial day, which meant that the biggest Moondoor campaign they’d been working on for months was taking place. Dean adjusted his chainmail and checked himself in the mirror. It had been two weeks or so since he'd last seen Charlie, and then another week since he'd met Gabriel, and Castiel had his... episode. 

In true Winchester fashion, they didn’t talk about it at  _ all _ .

Considering Castiel's history of talking and over-explaining, Dean would later realize that this was a very, very bad thing. But right now, at this particular moment in time, it just made him feel at ease. Out of sight (earshot), out of mind.

If he was to be honest with himself though, Gabriel’s story didn’t sit well with him. Something about it felt rehearsed; like it had been said by Gabriel often. But although his instincts told him that something was off, Dean paid it no mind. After all, Gabriel’s story was logical, and that meant it was true, right?

Castiel had pulled his own armor out lovingly from its place in Dean’s attic, and he wiped it down with oil and care. His sword and helmet were given the same special treatment. Castiel even washed his old clothes by hand, scared the washer and dryer were going to disintegrate them, somehow. His sword was kept securely in its scabbard, and Dean reminded him that it was just for show, and that he was not allowed to use it at all.

He then gave Dean’s armor the full treatment as well, and Dean was very grateful. “So tell me how this goes, once more?”

“You are going to be Charlie’s new knight for a day. She created a character for you that could essentially disappear or not be in the storyline anymore if you decide that you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“That did not give me any information that reminded me of what I’m meant to do,” Castiel deadpanned, and Dean grinned. He looked Castiel up and down, and tipped his head. “Looking good there, Emmanuel of Suncrest.” 

Castiel smirked, and winked at Dean, making him laugh. “Again, how does this go?”

“You pretend to be a knight of the Queen of Moondor, Queen Candace - my friend, Charlie. She will set you on missions that you will fulfil for her along with me, her, um,” Dean trailed off at this, which made Castiel prompt him to speak up.

“Dean?”

“Handmaiden,” he mumbled, and Castiel nudged him with a foot. “Handmaiden,” he repeated loudly, and Castiel’s face broke into a wide grin. 

“I never would have guessed,” he said, and Dean groaned.

“Not you too,” he whined, and Castiel clapped him on the back. 

“Being a handmaiden is a noble profession, and my dear sir, handmaidens usually end up with the knight, according to my experience,” Castiel said. Dean raised his eyebrows, a little surprised with the flirting. 

“Are you flirting with me?”

Castiel withdrew sheepishly. “I’m trying to channel my brothers. Is it working?”

Dean tapped his finger on his chin. “It’s different. Not unwelcome - but not you, though.” 

Castiel cracked a smile, elbowed Dean, and went back to fixing his duffle. It was an overnight LARP event after all, and although Dean didn’t mind sleeping in the outdoors, he also didn’t want to sleep like an actual knight during that era.

Castiel had helpfully told him, as Dean agonized over sleepwear, that they usually slept naked at night in Aetherys, to which Dean responded quickly that he was  _ not _ sleeping naked in the outdoors, even if the event encouraged people to be as accurate as possible. As Castiel grinned at him in response and continued stuffing clothes into the duffle, Dean realized a couple of things.

One, that was the first time Castiel had brought up Aetherys in a long while, not since he’d seen Gabriel. Two, the way he brought up their homeland so nonchalantly made Dean think that maybe, just maybe, that Castiel was moving past making Dean believe in the whole other-realm idea and just figured to embrace the truth, courtesy of Gabriel’s explanation.

Maybe his brother was all he needed to find. Maybe that fixed everything, Dean thought. Maybe he was grasping at straws, but for once, everything felt like he was approaching some degree of  _ normal _ .

Maybe. Dean still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was  _ missing _ something.

Castiel finished packing, and handed the duffle to Dean. He eyed Dean with a hum. “You clean up well for a peasant.”

“A peasant? Really, Cas?”

“A very handsome one?”

Dean barked a laugh. “Come on, shouldn’t keep the queen waiting, she’ll be pissed.”

Castiel followed Dean out, and locked the door behind him. “I don’t know who this Charlie person is, but you’re making her sound a little intimidating.”

“Charlie’s made of sunshine and rainbows Cas. I swear, you’ll have a great time.”

As the day went on, Dean started to feel antsier and antsier. He wasn’t entirely sure why either, but if he was to hazard a guess, it might have been the twinkle of nostalgia and sadness in Castiel’s eyes under all enthusiasm he had been showing today. 

Was he thinking of Aetherys?

A little perturbed, Dean found himself wandering towards Charlie’s tent, who greeted him with a flourish. “Leave us,” she said to the other handmaidens attending to her. They bowed, and left the tent, one of them waving at Dean and winking. 

“You should be here attending to my needs, you know,” Charlie said, to which Dean replied, “I’m on a special mission, your worshipfulness.”

“Oh really, Han Solo?” Charlie asked. “Stumbled onto the wrong LARP?”

Dean grinned, mirth not quite reaching his eyes. Charlie frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just nerves,” Dean admitted, sitting down on a crate. “Cas and his brother are here.”

“That’s great, isn’t it? You can introduce your bestest friend ever!” Charlie said, elbowing him. 

“The last time we were together in the same area didn’t go very well,” Dean explained. He shared the details of Gabriel’s house visit. “He became really upset when Gabriel talked about their home country, and just left. When he came back in with Gabe, something changed.”

“Oh?”

“He didn’t talk about Aetherys anymore. Whenever I try to ask about their culture or anything about his hometown he’d mumble some excuse or make a beeline for his room. At some point, just stopping asking seemed easier.

“And it was, actually. Easier, I mean,” elaborated Dean. “Life went on, and we had fun, grew closer and all that shit you expect when you start dating someone.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Well  _ yeah _ , but him being honest with me is important to me too, and being silent about the issue hanging above our heads isn’t honesty,” Dean said.

Charlie scoffed. “Isn’t that the patented Winchester way of dealing with things? Let it fester until it dies?”

Dean frowned. “I’d like to think that years of therapy actually helped me change.”

Charlie sighed, and sat down on the crate next to Dean. “And you have, actually! We’ve all seen your progress, so  _ use that _ .

“Think back to that time when you and Cas set this issue aside and actually just enjoyed each other as friends or whatever. Shouldn’t be too hard, as according to your story it’s been ongoing for a while now,” Charlie said. Dean nodded at her, and waved at her to continue. “Cas hasn’t shown you anything violent right? Abusive, maybe? Maybe he’s actively manipulating you? I mean, I don’t see it, personally but -”   


“No!” Dean responded quickly. “Never. When he realized he was basically  _ freeloading _ , he got himself a job to share with the bills and groceries without me having to tell him. For all intents and purposes, he’s been a great housemate, actually.”

“So he’s been a decent person so far - which is like, the most basic requirement there is for a friend. And from what you’ve told me, you guys have been getting along really well, too,” Charlie stood up, and paced in front of Dean. She counted out her points with her fingers. “Again, as we’ve established, he respects your work, goes along with your shenanigans, and appreciates your food.” Charlie looked up. “Hell Dean, that’s everything I’d look for in a relationship.”

“But his chronic lying?”

“It isn’t lying per se, maybe just delusions. And it doesn’t really change who he  _ is _ , doesn’t it? So many people have lives after they lose all of their memories - why treat whatever this is any differently?”

Dean rubbed his eyes with his fingers in frustration. Charlie patted him on the back. “Come on, use those therapy-gained skills in order to figure out feelings.”

Dean chuckled mirthlessly, and looked up at Charlie. “I’d guess my damn past matters to me so much, it made me who I am, and it fucking hurts that I can’t suss out what made Cas into  _ Castiel _ .”

“There we go!” Charlie said. “Damn, I’m pretty good at this. Should I change careers?”

“Maybe,” Dean said, bemused. “This doesn’t tell me what I should  _ do _ , though.”

“Okay, so, I’m not saying that this issue with Castiel is a non-issue. But you’re going to end up having to choose, you know that, right Dean?”

“Choose what?”

“Either you accept him for who he is  _ now _ , Winchester, or you don’t. If you can’t, well,” Charlie said, worrying her lip, “maybe you should nip whatever  _ this  _ is in the bud, and move on. For his and your sake."

Dean spent some time running around Moondor, doing small missions Charlie gave him after their talk. His friend seemed to have taken pity on him and gave him a bit of a distraction.

It helped him for a while. Sneaking around to gain information about a staged impending battle, fighting against enemy spies, he’d been very productive in-game.

He’d also been very productive in his head, he’d thought. Charlie may have been right. Probably. How many times had he been assured that his past doesn’t define him? 

He really should think about setting up an appointment with his therapist soon. Hell, he should have set it up weeks ago, but he was determined to work it out on his own. It was probably a good time to ask for help.

Dean wandered about until he spotted a stall with glass bottles filled with colorful liquid. Health potions were a precious commodity in the game, and he figured that it was time for him to make a stop, maybe have a bit of food and rest. He’d been running about the better part of the morning, after all. He was exchanging some coin for some bottles when he spotted Castiel blinking in the middle of the small area they called a market. 

“Emmanuel!” He called out. “Fancy seeing you here, dear knight. Did the queen send you on a quest?”

“I actually haven’t met the queen yet,” Castiel said with a smile. “I’ve been roaming around doing small missions to earn money. I’ve won a few sword fights, actually.”

“Impressive. Would’ve paid to see how you handled your sword,” Dean said, eyebrow quirking. 

‘Sword-play’, how subtle, Winchester, he chided himself mentally, but chalked it up to a win when Castiel laughed.

“Probably just as well as you handle a screwdriver,” Castiel parried, and Dean snorted in laughter. 

“Have you met your queen yet?” Dean asked, handing Castiel a bottle from the stall. Castiel opened it, and started gulping down the contents. “She should’ve been the first person you visited, sir.”

“I couldn’t find her tent,” Castiel admitted with a slight blush.

“And asking for directions is beneath you?”

Castiel scowled. “My character is meant to be a knight, isn’t he? I haven’t met a knight in my lifetime who was humble enough to ask for directions.”

“Let me accompany you to her majesty’s tent then, Emmanuel,” Dean said, slinging an arm over Castiel. “She’s been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

Castiel smiled serenely, but his eyes looked a little worried. “Have you seen my brother? I’m sure he’ll love to meet Charlie with us.”

“He’s probably goofing around somewhere. Last I heard there was a big commotion at the cook’s tent, and I suspect your brother.”

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Castiel confirmed wryly. “I doubt he’d actually ruin anyone’s meal and waste food, but he probably grossed a few people out with whatever he’d made, or something equally innocuous but unpleasant.”

“Anyway, you don’t need your brother. Besides, we’re already here.”

Dean went through the red tent flaps, drawing them aside for Castiel to come in. “My queen?”

Charlie turned, and her face brightened. “Castiel! I’ve heard so much about you!” Charlie said, giving Castiel a big hug. She raised her hand, indicating that she was out of character, and politely asked the other players to leave for a while so she could talk to the two privately. Castiel blinked in surprise, but took it in stride. “I was so afraid the event would get cancelled because of the storm last night. I would have had to wait even longer to meet you! Dean said that you’re from Aetherys?”

“Ah, yes, Lithuania,” Castiel murmured. He tried on a crooked smile, trying to look as genuine as he could.

“Lithuania has a city called Aetherys? Never heard of it.”

Castiel coughed. “It’s a small town, not on any particular map.”

“Oh,” Charlie said. She glanced at Dean, and then turned back to Castiel. “Well, I don’t claim to know everything about every country in the world. Tell me more!”

“More?”   


“About Lithuania!”

Castiel seemed to freeze, and for the first time that Dean had ever known him, started to stammer. “What about Lithuania?”

“What do you miss the most? Must be difficult to be away from your home.”

“Ah, the weather, I suppose,” Castiel said, with a slight stutter. “The weather here is warmer than I am used to.”

“I suspect so,” Charlie answered good-naturedly, and Castiel looked relieved. “You must really miss Lithuanian food too! Do you have any favorites?”

“Oh, sure,” Castiel murmured. “I miss um, pasta?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Dean worriedly. She gestured at Dean to come closer, and smiled at Castiel politely before she turned to Dean. “Dude, he knows nothing about his supposed country.”

“I can tell,” Dean responded flatly. “Excuse us, Charlie.” He stalked out of the tent, gesturing at Castiel to follow him. They went behind the tent, flanked by the woods.

Dean rubbed an eye with the base of his palm, and then looked up at Castiel. “Cas, what are you doing?”

Castiel cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Talking to your friend?”

Dean nodded, and spoke slowly, and he admitted to himself, condescendingly. “Yes, but don’t you want to tell her about Aetherys?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “I am?”

“Yes, but not like -”

“Like what, Dean?” Castiel said immediately, tone growing more impatient.

“You’re lying,” said Dean, bewildered. 

“About?”

“Aetherys, Cas!” Dean shouted, then lowered his voice down to an urgent whisper. “You haven’t been able to look Charlie in the eye for the whole of that painful conversation and your damn stutter would make even toddlers seem fucking eloquent!”

“What are you trying to say, Dean?” Castiel’s arms were now folded, and he drew back from Dean.

Dean exhaled, clenching his fist. “You’re lying, Cas! Are you even actually from Lithuania?”

There was a seemingly lengthy pause hanging in the air. To Dean, it felt like a good ten minutes of collective breathing, but in reality it was no more than thirty seconds. The tension snapped.

“I tell you the truth, and you disbelieve me.” Castiel put down his arms and stalked towards Dean. “I tell you lies that would appease your sense of reality, and you  _ still _ disbelieve me. I don’t know what you want from me, Dean Winchester!”

“I want the honest-to-god sane  _ truth _ !” Dean half-yelled. He was very aware of how close he was to Castiel, and he could see the anger and confusion brimming in the other’s eyes.

“I  _ have  _ been telling you the truth about Aetherys, Dean! I have been for a while! It’s you who won’t believe me!”

“Because it’s impossible, Cas!” Dean said. “But Charlie is one of my closest friends, and I can’t have you telling her some half-baked bullshit about Lithuania!”

Castiel stepped closer, well within Dean’s personal space now. “I don't know what you want from me anymore, Dean. I thought you wanted me to be normal!”

Dean stepped back. “I just wanted you to stop  _ lying _ to me, Castiel. I don't know what you're getting out of all this bullshit. It has to fucking stop! Who are you? Where are you  _ really _ from?” He paused, remembering the trick that Castiel pulled that night in the bunker. He frowned. “How can you summon a sword from thin air?”

Castiel’s blue eyes seemed closer to steel in the light of his anger, pupils constricted to pinpricks. “It doesn't seem to matter what I tell you, Dean! Lithuania or Aetherys, you don't believe me either way!”

“I just…” Dean growled in frustration, and he stepped towards Castiel, bringing them closer once more. 

He had lived a part of his life with a schizophrenic father, and Dean wasn't sure he could spend the rest of his life with a lover who had delusions. He didn't want to feel to feel trapped again.

But he did  _ truly _ love Castiel, anyway.

Dean was just trying to will the delusions away at this point.

His voice went quiet. “I just want to know the truth, Cas. What's real?”

Castiel, however, had his voice heightened into an angry shout. “We are! You and me. The way you make me feel, that's real. The way I want to kiss you, that's real. How I want to spend the rest of my life with you, that's all real!” His voice had carried over to the Queen’s tent, and at the corner of his eye Dean could see Charlie and other players check out the commotion. Castiel had paused at this point, breathing hard, and his voice came out in a whisper. “I know it's hard to believe- if I was back home and someone tells me they came from a world filled with steel horseless carriages and boxes of light with moving paintings, I would treat this person with the utmost criticism and disbelief. But I thought I've at least merited some semblance of  _ faith _ .”

Faith? Dean  _ had _ faith, just not in impossible things that made no sense! Dean’s anger flared up, and he went so close to Castiel that he could feel the other man’s angered breathing. “Don't throw that in my face, Cas. You're asking me to believe in magic and other realms and knights and princes and shit, and then in the next moment you act like everything is normal, like I'm going out with someone grounded -”

Castiel gestured with an arm, pointing at himself. “That's my life! Twenty five years I have lived, Dean - and I know those things happened to me, I'm who I am, because of my home. Fine, maybe they're a delusion that's all in my head, maybe its all just fucking bullshit, but can you at least believe that they're as real to me as your brother is, your father, your mother? That who I am, that person you care about, isn't just...bullshit.” His last few words had faded into a tired trail of quiet, but Dean could see the defiance in Castiel’s eyes, underscored by  _ pleading _ .

Dean softened. He could tell Castiel was trying, he  _ was trying.  _

It seemed like Castiel really believed in what his saying. Charlie was right. His delusions were real to him, and Dean just needed to accept it. 

Dean lowered his gaze. “I want you to be real, I want to believe you, Cas, but I don't know how.”

“So what do we do now?” Castiel asked, defeat in his voice. The man looked away, and that broke Dean’s heart.

Maybe Charlie was right. He needed to either accept whatever Castiel had or claimed to be as Castiel’s truth, or break this off, whatever it was. He couldn’t bear to hurt him any longer.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, when a flat disc of swirling light appeared in midair. There was no sound, and even the noise of the forest and the bustle of the camp had gone silent. The disc was very bright, even in the light of day, and he shaded his eyes with a hand, vaguely observing everyone else but Castiel do the same. Castiel had stepped forward, and even if he appeared to be in shock, he seemed to also be very, very excited about something.

A man stepped out, all decked in chainmail, not very different from what everyone else was wearing. “Brother,” Dean heard Castiel say, and Dean blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

“What the fuck?!”


	11. Chapter 11

“Brother,” Castiel exhaled. He could hear Dean exclaim in shock just behind him. Out in the corner of his eye he could see Gabriel push his way through the gathered crowd.

“Luca?” Gabriel asked. “Is that really…?”

“Brothers, I have come to bring you home,” Luca announced. He waved his free hand in an almost negligent motion. Castiel watched the familiar flow of his brother's open palm followed by the quick snap of his fingers closing into a fist. The portal behind him instantly collapses. “I have vanquished the evil sorceress and saved our land.”

“Vanquished?” Gabriel said, paling. Castiel spared a thought for his brother’s lover, knowing that although she was a threat to the end, Gabriel did honestly love her.

“Defeated, conquered, bested, however you want to describe it,” Luca said, his tone inappropriately casual. “What matters is the threat to the kingdom is gone, and I have avenged our father. We can now rule Aetherys once more.”

Murmurs around the camp seemed to louden, and Castiel was once more aware that it wasn’t just him and his two brothers present. Castiel felt a hand clutch his, and he turned to see Dean. “Cas?”

“Well, here’s your proof, Dean,” Castiel said, off-handedly. 

“Saying sorry doesn’t cut it,” said Dean, his face pale under his freckles, and Castiel squeezed his hand.

“But I forgive you, anyway.”

Dean frowned. “But Cas-”

“Later, Dean.” 

Dean nodded grimly, and then turned back to Luca, and nudged Castiel. “What’s he talking about, Cas?”

“My brother has come from Aetherys, having apparently survived the battle between him and the royal mage,” Castiel explained. He watched Gabriel walk towards Luca slowly, as Luca surveyed the people around him with an expression Castiel has never seen before.

“What did the royal mage do?” Dean asked, distracting him from Luca.

“Tried to take the throne,” Castiel responded off-handedly. He squeezed Dean’s hand again, and let go, in order to go to his brother. 

“Is she…?” Gabriel trailed off. His hand was on Luca’s shoulder, and he leaned in as he asked. His face was twisted into an uncertain look of anguish.

“Might as well be,” Luca answered, and he turned to Castiel, inadvertently shaking Gabriel off. Castiel stepped forward and caught his other brother by the arm before he staggered. “Castiel, I hope you both are ready to come home. I need your help.”   


“Are you alright?” Castiel whispered to Gabriel. 

“Never better,” Gabriel lied as he steadied himself. The corners of his mouth were raised, like he was determined to smile, but nothing on his face showed mirth whatsoever. “What do you need our help for? Everything is fine now, right?”

“I may have defeated the foe, but the work does not end. I need you to give me the approval to be the new king,” Luca said, matter-of-factly. 

“Approved,” answered Gabriel quickly. “Go ahead, enjoy Aetherys.”

Luca gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t work as such, obviously. The council needs the approval of all living royals during the coronation. It’s tradition, and it’s the law.”

“Do you think they would accept a notarized letter from me declaring that I secede the throne to Luca?” Gabriel asked Castiel, who frowned at him.

“You do not plan on coming back?”

“I have a life here, I have Kali, and my animals, and,” he paused and coughed into his fist, trying to steady his shaky voice. “And there is no one to come back to, in Aetherys. Not for me.”

“How about your land, where you grew up in, which father had us swear that we will protect until the very end?” Castiel insisted. 

Gabriel looked away. “Luca said everything is well. I don’t see the need to come back.”   


“Brothers, I need you  _ both _ , _ ”  _ Luca urged. “Come now, it’s time to go.” 

Gabriel frowned, and he shifted his feet. Castiel watched him crouch slightly, putting his center of gravity lower, more stable, as if he was readying himself to be dragged back to Aetherys. Castiel glanced back at Luca, who drew out the medallion he used to create the portal, from the chain on his neck. 

“I would like to instead state my claim on paper, and have it confirmed by the law of this realm, or have Prince Castiel of Aetherys, Lord of the Emerald Forest, Duke of Partioch, Knight of the Order of Seraphim, our brother and one of Aetherys’s rightful heirs, to formally announce my decision to turn over the throne to Prince Luca of Aetherys. I do not plan on coming back,” Gabriel reiterated formally. 

Castiel sighed, letting Gabriel’s arm go. “Are you sure about this, brother?”

“I am,” Gabriel said, “I’m sorry you may have to go.” He cocked his head slightly at Dean, who stood there, still watching them. 

Castiel turned. The crowd has scattered, losing interest in the proceedings, probably dismissing it as a part of the game that they will hear about later. Charlie stood slightly behind Dean, still observing as well. “Dean.” He said, more to himself than to call the other man.

If he went with Luca, he may not see his friend ever again. More than a friend. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” asked Dean. Castiel walked over to Dean. 

“I have no choice, Dean,” Castiel said. “I have to go.”

“Can’t you do the same thing Gabriel is doing? You have a life here, Cas,” insisted Dean. Dean took his hand. “A life here with me, maybe. Right?”

“Dean, you can’t even reconcile who I am with where I came from. I haven’t even properly met Sam, even Bobby, and you talk about your family a lot. I work at a gas station,” Castiel pointed out. “What life?”

“We can work together at the shop. I can talk to Sam and Bobby. I can…” Dean trailed off, and let go of Castiel’s hand. “Look, I get it. I haven’t been a great boyfriend.” He then spoke with such conviction, such strength, that after his next words, Castiel had no choice but to believe him. “I’ll wait for you. I haven’t been very good with showing my faith in you Cas, and I want to change that.

“I’ll wait for you. I will,” said Dean. “Your land needs you.”

Castiel smiled. Dean then shouted in alarm, and Castiel turned. 

Luca had opened the portal, and had grabbed Gabriel by the arm and was forcefully dragging him into the disc of light.

Castiel quickly grabbed Luca by his other arm. “What are you doing Luca? He said he wouldn’t come back with us - I’m already coming with you! I’ll vouch for Gabriel!”

“The law works how it works Cas, you know that,” Luca insisted, shaking Castiel off. He grunted with the effort as Gabriel resisted. “It calls for all the members of the royal family that can succeed the throne to be present to secede.”

“Unhand me, you asshole,” Gabriel screamed. “Don’t make me hurt you, Luca.” 

Luca snorted, tossing his head in disbelief. “Hurt me, Gabriel? You can’t even hurt a damn cockroach running across the hall from the garbage chute. How in the world are you going to hurt me? Besides, do you really think I would come back for the both of you if I didn’t have to?

“I tried convincing the council, brothers, to give me the throne, even if you weren’t there for the ceremony. But no, the law “is the law is the law”, apparently, and our dear Prime Minister Crowley had enough clout on the council and in the community that killing him would make it harder for me. So, I thought, it would be far, far easier to just retrieve you two,” Luca finished, voice sharp with contempt. He took out his sword from the hilt, and let go of Gabriel. “My dear Gabriel, I really did not want to do this the hard way, but -” 

Gabriel didn’t see it coming. Luca slammed the butt of his sword at the back of the other’s head, and Gabriel crumpled onto the ground. “That’s easier,” Luca remarked, and started dragging Gabriel into the portal. “Now Castiel, be a dear and just come with me, please. I do not desire to resort to such measures, not with my baby brother.”

Castiel already had his sword out. “Let go of Gabriel, Luca. I will come with you, just let go of him. He has a life here, someone whom he loves and cares for. He has responsibilities here, too. Please, please don’t do this to him.”

Luca shook his head, and let go of Gabriel. “The hard way then, dear brother?”

“You cannot do the same trick twice,” Castiel said. “Luca, please. Why are you doing this?”

“Father never really trusted me, do you know that?” Luca said, as he stalked towards Castiel. 

Castiel backed away slowly, stance set low for balance. He didn’t realize that he was leading Luca into the thick of the camp until he noticed they were walking past Charlie’s tent.

He might have put these people in danger, and didn’t even realize it. He needed to get Luca away from here. Castiel looked around. As soon as they heard shouting, everyone had gathered under the tent awnings to watch the commotion. 

Good, Castiel thought. At least they were out of the way.

“Once you and Gabriel were born, he stopped talking about giving me the throne altogether.” Luca was gesticulating wildly, emphatic in his anger. His eyes focused on Castiel with barely concealed hatred. “He’d made me feel like I had to compete with the both of you just to get it. To always be the better son, the best brother - just so father can see that I deserve this.

“One day, he called me in, and told me that he had decided - he was not going to give me the throne. I was livid, Castiel, truly, I was.” Luca brandished his sword around, pointing at Castiel. 

Castiel startled and almost tripped on a metal bucket at the sudden movement. There was a gasp in their audience, and Castiel righted himself and nudged the bucket into Luca’s path, who kicked it aside. Fear gripped Castiel as Luca continued with his rant and waved his sword about brashly. He wasn’t afraid for himself, but for everyone else around him. He needed to get out of there. “I thought, as the eldest, I had the right, among all of us! I am firstborn! But father said that he wanted to see who was worthy - because the three of us were, and there needed to be a test. A damn test!”

Realizing that Luca was not going to let him go, Castiel decided he should run and double back to where Gabriel was. He had to make sure his brother was all right, and there were less people in the outskirts of the camp.

“As if my whole  _ life _ wasn’t already spent pleasing him and taking care of the lot of you, just to secure my place in history. So I thought, this cunt was useless, won’t give me the throne, what other purpose does he serve?” Luca’s voice echoed across the camp, reverberating through the makeshift townsquare between them. 

“That evening, I stole a tincture from the medicinal pantry, and poured it into Father’s wine cup. Remember how he trusted his people, and refused tasters? Never have I thanked the maker more. His poor heart simply  _ stopped _ , and everyone assumed it was a heart attack.” Luca just casually announced that he actually killed the king, their father, and still the man wouldn’t stop confessing. 

Castiel was bewildered, and then a sickening realization struck him. There was no way he would bring Castiel back to Aetherys alive, not with what Luca has been confessing.

His brother was going to kill him.

Castiel wouldn’t let that happen. 

He had to get back to Aetherys. Castiel was not going to let this murdering madman take over. The right moment came in a split second window - someone knocked over a barrel in the distance. Luca glanced  _ just so _ , and Castiel slipped around a tent stake and tried to disappear. He gingerly made his way back to the queen’s tent through less traveled pathways. Behind him, he could still hear Luca talking. Even as he spoke, he could hear him right at Castiel’s heels, still taking his time.

Castiel was starting to feel like he was being toyed with. Like he was prey.

“It was easy to plant suggestions of doubt into most people about the mage after that. She was my greatest threat - with her power, even if I was able to change forms, I wouldn’t have been able to handle her.” Luca stomped around camp, following the trail of Castiel’s hasty retreat. “The tincture I found was her recipe, used to soothe the aching hearts in our community, but poisonous when taken with the wrong amount. I figured that if it did not work that night, I could try again another night - but as the universe dictated, he died, and that was my chance. 

“But Rowena, Gabriel’s sweet, sweet lover, had her suspicions. She somehow knew that I was the one who took the tincture, and thus, I had to find a way to deal with her. Framing her was surprisingly easy, too. A few greased palms - just a little more than I knew were suspicious of her, you know who they were, and her supporters scattered. Then, I just had to convince  _ you _ .”

Castiel had to pause for a while to breath. He grabbed one of the odd-tasting health potions (Gatorade) fastened at his belt, and drank. He crouched low against one of the trees, letting Luca continue with his confession. His heart thudded against his chest as Luca’s voice grew louder with his approach.

“Found the texts and spells from my travels. A little smattering of black magic here and there, and spread rumors upon rumors of her  _ possibly _ killing the king? That was that. Then, of course, I had to get rid of his greatest protector - Gabriel. And if I had to get rid of Gabriel, that meant I had to get rid of you. You would never have stopped looking for our dear brother if he disappeared.”

Making himself as small as possible, Castiel kept an eye on his escape route while trying to keep track of where Luca was moving. There was a small opening through that clump of trees in the near distance, flanked by a couple of tents. If he could just slip through there, maybe he could buy him and Gabriel some time. 

“Of course, once upon a time, I did love the both of you, we are brothers after all, and well, I  _ had _ to. So, I decided that I’ll just lead you someplace else and dump you there, like an unwanted pet. I was able to steal this wonderful, s _ pecial _ medallion from Rowena, and here we are now,” Luca said with finality. 

As soon as Luca finished, Castiel ran for it. He could hear Luca’s footsteps turnabout in one area as his older brother looked for him. Castiel then slipped through the trees and circled around the edge of the woods, back towards the queen’s tent. When he spied the familiar red canvas up ahead, he exhaled gratefully.

Dean was tending to Gabriel when Castiel arrived. The other prince was stirring, and Dean nodded at Castiel to show that Gabriel was alright. Castiel stood in front of them, and subsequently, the portal, sword raised. He could hear Luca approach, and after a second, there he was. Castiel straightened himself, and spoke with authority. “It ends here, Luca. After everything you have said, I cannot let you get away with  _ getting _ the throne.”

“Oh Castiel, we are just beginning,” Luca said. He shifted in his armor, and started to unfasten some of the special buttons he had in place. “Crowley had said that either I get you back in order to secede in front of the council, or bring proof of death. And you know what?

“I will have the throne, even if I have to kill both of you to do it,  _ brother _ .” Luca inhaled deeply.

He stretched out his arms, and started to morph into something bigger, something darker, and something more menacing. His special armor slid off his now hulking body, and wings sprouted from his back.

Luca rose into the air.

Out in the corner of his eye, Castiel could see Dean watch with terrified awe as Luca grew larger and changed into a dragon.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean exclaimed. He gripped his sword in one hand, and Castiel was grateful once again that Dean let him use his smithy to make Dean a real sword. Dean’s replicas would have done nothing against the beast in front of them. He vaguely registered screams of awe and terror around him, as everyone started to run away from the creature that threatened them.

“Luca, what the hell are you doing?” Gabriel shouted, sitting up from his position on the ground. Their brother roared back in response, and Gabriel huffed in annoyance and fear. “Is that all you want? Power? Stars and stones, you could have just asked us to secede and we would have! As the eldest you have all the right to take the throne!”

The monster roared as it rose into the sky. The sunlight glinted from its shiny black scales, its bulk casting them into deep shadow. Castiel looked up, and forced Gabriel to stand. He shoved him in one direction, and Gabriel started running, albeit slowly. His brother was clearly still struggling, and he stumbled just a few feet away. Castiel paused, and slung Gabriel’s arm around his shoulder. The dragon had blocked out the sun, and the small shadow it cast suddenly grew larger.

And larger. 

And larger still. 

“Castiel, duck!” screamed Dean, and Castiel dropped to the ground. Luca swooped, one of his sharp talons swiping against Castiel’s helmet. If he wasn’t able to evade in time, his head would have come off!

The monster roared again, and Castiel glanced at Gabriel, who pushed himself up as he shakily drew his sword. The other prince rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. “Damn, he did a number on me.”

“I saw,” Castiel said. “What’s he saying?”

“The usual stuff. He wanted the crown, he doesn’t care about casualties, he’ll kill us like he killed Father…” Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Wait,  _ he did what _ ?!”

The black figure in the sky had soared once more into the blue expanse. Castiel tracked it with his eyes.

The dragon’s belly began to glow red, and it spread higher, climbing to his throat. He dove. 

“Fire,” Castiel realized, and he turned to Gabriel and Dean. “He’s about to breath fire.”

“Fire?” Dean said, eyes widening. “EVERYBODY, SCATTER! GO! Leave, go!” Dean screamed as a warning. Some people had been watching the dragon in fascination like it was a movie in 3D, and Dean shoved them to move. LARPers scattered and started running into the woods. “Charlie! Fire!”

Charlie had gone back into her tent when the talk had escalated, and was now checking out the commotion outside. “Fire? Where?”

“Up there!” Dean yelled, and Charlie screamed.

A volley of flame struck her tent just as she ran out. 

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!” Charlie screamed. “Is that an honest-to-god fucking dragon?”

“It’s my brother, Luca!” Castiel shouted at Charlie as they ran. He gestured towards the woods, and everyone followed his lead. “He wants to kill Gabriel and me for the throne.”

“He’s an asshole, we’re sorry!” Gabriel shouted back. “Hi, I’m Gabriel, Castiel’s nicer brother.”

Charlie gave him a quick nod, and turned back to Castiel. “And whatever the fuck did Moondoor do to that bastard that he’s torching my camp?” 

“All about us, sorry red,” Gabriel said, winking at Charlie, who rolled her eyes. 

“Your charm is wasted on me,” Charlie said flatly.

Gabriel laughed, but Castiel could hear his nerves in the slight shake of his voice. There was a huge roar from above, and the canopy became darker as a black blur flew above them. “He’s calling for us,” Gabriel told Castiel. “And still monologuing.”

“Since when did my life become an actual fairy tale?” Dean wondered aloud.

“Since Cas, when else?” Gabriel yelled back, and Charlie hooted.

“Prince Charming finally meets his princess,” Charlie added in.

“Which one of us is the princess?” Castiel asked, and Dean had to slow to a stop. His roommate's shoulders shook in silent, raucous laughter, and Castiel paused to chuckle along with him.

The dragon bellowed again, and then all went quiet. “Oh no,” Castiel said, backing away slightly from the last direction they had heard his cry.

“He stopped! That’s good, right?” Dean asked. 

Gabriel shook his head. “He’s shifting - he’d figured that he couldn’t find us this way, flying and just torching the Kansas forests. God knows what he’d shift into.”

There was a piercing scream, and everyone glanced in the direction it came. “He must have caught someone,” Dean said quietly, wincing. “Shit.”

“Shit is right,” Gabriel said. He glanced at Castiel. “We have to run.”

“What?” Dean yelled.

“Run!”

They took off again in a different direction. “He’s still calling for me - for us,” Gabriel said. “He’s now a fucking mountain lion.”

“This is the most exercise I’ve had in a month,” quipped Dean, as he jumped over a root. “He’s bound to catch us anyway, there must be another way than just to keep running?”

“We might not have a choice,” said Castiel. The sunlight was getting brighter, as the trees around them thinned out. Up ahead Castiel could see there was a huge open clearing, filled with grass and flowers. And it seemed very, very flat, with no opportunity for cover. “Dean, I need you and Charlie to get out of here. Stay in the cover of the trees.”

“Should we go ask for help?”

“From the magical police brigade?” Gabriel said in response. “Ask help from  _ whom? _ ”

“Unless they are equipped to fight a dragon shape shifter, I don’t think they’d be able to help,” Castiel said. 

“Point taken,” Dean replied. Dean nodded at Charlie, who ran back, further into the tree line. Before Dean left, he grabbed Castiel’s hand. “Take care of yourself.”

“Always,” Castiel said, and felt himself being pulled in. Dean’s warm hand rested on Castiel’s cheek, and his lips touched the corner of Castiel’s mouth gently. 

Castiel deepened the kiss almost immediately. He surged forward, arms enveloping Dean, drawing them closer to each other. His tongue tentatively licked into Dean’s mouth, but had to stop when he heard someone clear their throat.

“Not that I have anything against true love, but we have a homicidal shapeshifter on our tails, so you’ll have to do this later,” Gabriel said.

Castiel reluctantly separated from Dean. “I’ll see you soon, Dean.”

“See ya, Cas,” Dean said. His words were punctuated with a huge feline’s roar. “He’s close. Don’t die.”

Castiel flashed him a big grin. “I won’t, I promise.”

Dean nodded, and seemed like he was about to leave, but then he stopped. “Cas, wait. I  _ could _ call the magical police brigade.”

“What? Dean, there’s no time for this-”

Gabriel turned, and pointed at Dean excitedly. “You may have something there! Castiel, he should get-”

“-the medallion!” Castiel inhaled sharply. “Yes! We could drive him back into Aetherys if we could get the portal open.”

Dean nodded at Cas, and winked. “Won’t let you down, your highness. I’ll bring what you need.” Castiel watched Dean disappear into the trees, then he pressed on.

Castiel broke through the last line of trees with his brother, and they stood at the edge of the prairie. Gabriel shooed Castiel to go on further, until behind them, a mountain lion appeared. It stalked forward, its behind shaking slightly, as if it was ready to pounce. 

The air around it blurred, and Luca appeared. “Merry chase you had me on there,” he said. “Come now, boys. You know you cannot win against me, why prolong the agony? Might as well come with me to secede the throne, then spend your days in the dungeons afterwards. I mean, you don’t have to die  _ now _ , we can prolong it a little bit.”

Castiel said, “The Aetherys Throne is not a game, Luca. It is a responsibility, a burden placed upon you. People would trust you to do the right thing, and -”   


“People would  _ fear _ me,” Luca corrected. “The throne is  _ power _ that I deserve. Whoever said this was a game, child? 

“We’re not playing tag anymore, little Castiel.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Castiel said. For the first time today, the  _ Yolcham _ itched under his skin, and Castiel resisted. Luca was still his brother, and if there was a way to get through to him, he would rather not murder his own flesh and blood.

Luca flashed his teeth. “Hurt me? You really think your little toothpick of a blade can do anything against this?” 

His voice boomed, and once more, his form changed back into that accursed dragon.

“Sarding fuck,” Gabriel swore, and looked up at Luca. “Goddammit Luca! End this bullshit! If you want the throne, it’s yours!”

The dragon growled in response, and Gabriel shook his head. “We won’t go against you! You can leave us here, if you wish, just leave us and this dimension alone!”

Castiel put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I can’t, brother.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t leave Aetherys in his hands. Not anymore. Not after today,” Castiel said. “I have to subdue him and bring him to justice in Aetherys.”

The dragon above them shrieked, and started to raise itself into the sky again. 

“By God’s fucking wound,” Gabriel swore. “He heard you, and he ain’t going to back off from what he considered your challenge.” Gabriel pulled out his sword. “If we die, Castiel, it will be your fault.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It’s going to attack from above, just like before,” Castiel said.

“His underside is the most vulnerable - not covered with scales as strong as that on the outside, and if we damage those wings, he will not be able to do the same aerial attack again,” Gabriel said. “Just evade his claws, his tail, and his fire, and we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Castiel echoed, and he gulped. “We have to be. For Aetherys.”

Gabriel sighed, and nodded. He looked up at the looming monster, and Castiel could see the fear in his brother’s face. “For Aetherys.”


	12. Chapter 12

Dean met Charlie just beyond the clearing, who immediately picked up the pace once he arrived. When Dean didn’t follow after her, she jogged back, and tried to pull him along.

“Dean! What are you doing? We are supposed to _ run away from here _ .”

“I need to think, hang on,” said Dean. He gripped his sword in his hand. What did he need to do next? Find the medallion, yes. Where was it? It obviously wasn’t still on Luca. Castiel and Gabriel were counting on him, there wasn’t time-

“If you have this grand delusion of needing to help and running back in there with your sword, well newsflash, you will just get in the way, and Castiel will have to worry about you and get distracted,” Charlie insisted, pulling on Dean’s arm. “Come on! We’re still too close.

Dean repeated, “Just hang on a minute, I’m trying to remember something.”

Putting aside the panic, fear, and sheer confusion that threatened to overwhelm him, Dean thought back to the moment Luca and Castiel met, a few minutes before he changed into a dragon.

“Charlie, do you remember where Castiel’s brother first shifted into that damn dragon?”

Charlie thought for a moment. “Might be on the edge of the camp, near my tent, why?”   
  
“I need to get back there; I need that medallion back,” Dean said, and he re-sheathed his sword. “Cas and Gabe need it. Hell, I can call for help using it. Let’s go,” he ran, not even looking behind him. He knew Charlie would follow.

“But Dean, the entire place is on fire!” Charlie screamed after her friend. “Dean! You can’t go there! The first responders won’t let you!”

Dean ignored Charlie’s protests, and kept running in the general direction of where the camp should be. As he did, his mind replayed the events that led up to him running for his life in this godforsaken forest. He remembered how Luca taunted Castiel, and struck Gabriel just like that. He talked about this mage-

A  _ mage _ .

Luca had talked about the mage who had allegedly gone after the throne, but that couldn’t be true given the revelations of Luca’s confessions. He remembered how Gabriel looked devastated when he was told the woman was dead - and she must have been very special to Gabriel. Gabriel trusted her.

Luca didn’t say she died. Luca said she was  _ as good as _ dead. 

As good as dead was not  _ dead _ .

A mage that was probably not dead, maybe just a little dead, could still be alive, and could still help.

Dean worriedly looked ahead, trying to survey the area. There didn’t seem to be smoke, or any orange glow that he would associate with flame. Surely they have put out some of the fire, right?

When Dean arrived _ ,  _ the fire seemed to be successfully contained by the emergency responders on standby, but the smoldering ruins of Moondoor were still being monitored by a surprising number of firefighters and volunteers. 

“Shit,” Dean said, surveying the scene from behind a tree. He had to somehow sneak into the definitely off-limits area, and try and find a medallion that he only saw in passing somewhere within the wreckage.

He gestured at Charlie behind him to come closer and be quiet. “I’ve always known dragons can be a pain in the ass in-game, but never imagined I’d meet one in real life,” Charlie whispered, and sighed. “Making my tent look period accurate took a lot of time, too.”

Dean patted Charlie comfortingly on the back. “ I don’t know how to get past all those personnel,” Dean said. He found an opening he could slip through, but someone was in the way. “Of course, it has to be Jo.”

“Jo? Where?” Charlie said, peeping behind the tree. Dean yanked her back in.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get us caught!” Dean sighed. “I can’t sneak past Jo. And when she catches me, she’s going to tattle.”

“Tattle? What are you, five?”

“Might as well be, around her. Bobby’s going to kill me if he finds out I snuck into a restricted area,” Dean said, contemplating. He then glanced at Charlie, who was still trying to sneak a peek at Jo. “You like her right? This is totally the time to ask her out.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now! I need you to distract her, Charlie! It’s a life or death situation!” Dean said, shoving her into the open. 

Charlie sighed, and Dean could hear her murmur under her breath, “You owe me for this, Dean.”

“Like you haven’t been planning to do it for the past few weeks,” Dean said, more to himself than Charlie, as she had already started walking towards Jo.

Dean watched them for a few minutes longer, and when Dean was confident Jo was preoccupied, he slipped out from behind the tree and walked as quietly as he could to the other side of the camp. Dean watched as Charlie took Jo’s hand, and was gently swinging back and forth in order for the sounds of her gear to cover up the noise of Dean’s clanging chainmail.

Most of the personnel were in the midst of the camp, where the fire had jumped from tent to tent. The ground was wet and muddy with grey puddles of ash and water. He figured that the big splotch of grey was Charlie’s tent, and just a little way forward, he should spot where Luca shifted into a dragon.

He scanned the area with his eyes. Everything was just mud, ash, and water. He could even barely see the green grass that was there this morning. He walked around, hoping that no one would look in his direction, and was desperate enough to consider going on his hands and knees to feel about in the huge puddle he was  _ sure _ Luca changed, when he saw something glinting in the sunlight.

It was the medallion. He examined the jewel set in the center, with runic markings covering most of the golden disc. It was half covered in mud by now, and it was just his luck, really, that the medallion was only half-buried in the puddle it lay in.

When he watched Luca play with it with some sort of hand gesture, he remembered that a bright light appeared in a pinprick, then slowly expanded into a disc of shimmering colors. It was almost like staring into rainbow static. The medallion clearly was the way into Aetherys, and Dean realized that if there was no help that could be given from this planet, surely there was  _ someone _ on Aetherys who could. 

The mage Luca talked about.

Hoping that his hunch was right, Dean slipped out of the camp, waving at Charlie as he went, and back into the cover of the trees. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the hand movements that Luca was making, thinking of whether he had said a spell or something to open the gate, when Charlie arrived with a slip of paper in her hand.

“Still got it,” Charlie said, grinning at Dean. “Got her number and a date for next Friday.”

“And I still owe you, after all that?”

Charlie punched Dean lightly on the arm. “Yes, Dean, it wasn’t easy to explain to her why I’m chatting her up while she was on duty.”

Dean nodded absently with a smile. He held the medallion in his right hand, and remembered Luca jerking his hand to the right, then making a big circle in front of him, followed by a push. He tried the movements himself, and nothing happened. 

“What are you doing?” Charlie asked, noting the medallion Dean had in his hand.

“Shh, I’m trying to conjure up the damn portal in order to ask for help,” Dean said. He tried the movements again, but nothing. “Shit. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong.”

“No, dummy, you have to use your will too!”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and Charlie explained, “I have read enough fantasy books to know that it’s also important that you push your will or your thoughts outward or something, in order to make that thing you want happen. I guess you just have to really think about what you want, and then you do the action, make the spell, or whatever you’re trying to do.”

“Worth a shot,” Dean said, and he kept Aetherys in his mind. Or at least tried to. He had no idea what Aetherys actually looked like, and so didn’t know if this was even going to work. He went through the motions again. Wave his arm to the right, make a circle, and push forward, as if opening a door.

Still nothing.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. He tried to think of Castiel. Tried to remember everything he said about Aetherys, and kept the idea of Castiel’s home in his head, and how much he wanted to go there, to see the castle for himself, to see his lover’s homeland.

He closed his eyes, and clutched the medallion tightly in his palm. He swept his arm to the side, and made a big circle in front of him. Something in his head clicked, like a door being opened, and Dean pushed.

The first thing he felt was wind in his face. He opened his eyes, and in front of him, he could see a castle courtyard. He could see knights training in one area, and a few maidens carrying baskets of linen chatting as they made their way across the field. Children played sword fight as they ran, a dog happily barking behind them. 

“I’ll be right back,” Dean said, looking back at his friend, whose jaw was open in surprise.   


“Be careful, Dean,” Charlie managed, and Dean stepped into the shimmering light. 

He landed in an empty corridor, with a massive window overlooking the courtyard. It was just like how Dean would imagine a medieval castle.

Time to look for that mage. Easily enough, there was a narrow set of stairs just beyond him, and he immediately descended, heading straight for the dungeons. Stands to reason, right? Prisoners were usually kept in dungeons, as far as he knew, and dungeons were usually at the lowest level of a castle..

He kept his eyes and ears open, but heard and saw no one as he went. This was probably the servants’ stairs because of how narrow it was, he thought, and, considering the angle of the sun outside, it must be some time around noon. People were probably having a lunch break of sorts? Dean decided that he should not question good favor, and continued down straight into the basement of the castle. He grabbed a torch that was on standby at the entrance to the dark room, and pushed open the heavy door.

It was more humid than expected. And, to Dean’s surprise, empty.

His boots clicked on the stone floor. Dean waved his hand in the cutting off motion that Luca did earlier, and closed his fist, and his way back to Earth disappeared. With a deep breath, he looked around. 

There wasn’t a single person, and when Dean called out, his voice merely echoed back at him. 

“Shit,” he whispered. If the mage wasn’t here in the dungeon, where the hell could she be?

Think, Dean, think. Dean didn’t know much about history, no, but  _ plenty _ of pop culture, movies, and books. What was one other place where they may keep a potentially dangerous person to prevent them from escaping?

Light streaming from one of the cells was obscured by a shadow, then Dean heard a flutter and a squawk echo throughout the chamber. Dean moved forward, just enough to peek through the small opening, and between the legs of a chicken, he saw a tall tower looming in the distance.

Tower. “Rapunzel!” Dean whispered triumphantly to himself. It seemed like he would need to cross the courtyard somehow without being seen, and that would not be easy.

But he had the medallion. 

Dean wasn’t sure if all it was good for was dimension-hopping, but he sure as hell could try and see whether teleportation would work, too. 

He kept the tower in his mind, imagining its inner workings, and desperately holding on to the thread of getting help, and made the familiar movements with his hands.

Dean knew it didn’t work because the telltale  _ click _ did not come. Dean blinked, and with a shaking hand, he tried to make a portal going back to earth. 

A bright light enveloped the room, and through the portal, Dean could see Charlie’s stiff back as she waited anxiously on a log for Dean. Dean closed his fist, and the portal closed. 

Okay, so it wasn’t the medallion. The medallion was working. Maybe the medallion was a one-trick wonder? 

Dean frowned. He suspected that Luca stole the medallion from the mage. This medallion should have more power than just to go from Earth to Aetherys, and back. And power depended on will and belief, right?

Maybe he should do it backwards, Dean thought to himself. If doing it the right way would send you to another dimension, maybe doing it the other way would do something different.

Dean exhaled, and concentrated. Castiel needed help. The only help he could get is from the mage. The mage was in the tower, over there, in sight. He needed to appear  _ inside _ of the tower. 

He made a circular motion with his hand, and jerked it to the left at the end. It felt almost like he was turning a key, and instead of pushing forward, Dean instinctively pulled his hand back.

It looked like liquid suspended in midair. On the other side was a dank, frigid room with some sort of glow in the far corner.

Dean entered, and immediately backpedaled when he was met with a flash of fire in the face. Dean screamed, and fell flat on his ass back into the dungeon. A woman appeared, shorter than him by at least five inches, with stringy red hair. Her face was smeared with soot and dirt, her clothes shabby and ripped in certain places. 

Her eyes looked feral and red, blood pouring out of her nose. Her fingers were slightly curled, and she stalked towards Dean, staring at him with those terrifying eyes.

The woman started to mumble something in a language that Dean didn’t recognize. Her fingers twitched, and flame appeared from the tips of her fingers, like she somehow concealed a blowtorch under her sleeve. She stretched her arm out, and fire shot towards Dean.

“Fuck!” Dean screamed, and he immediately ducked. “Holy shit - stop!”

“Keep away from me you  _ demon _ !” She screamed, in what Dean identified as some form of an English accent. She spoke again, with Dean catching the tail end of her words sounding like  _ za-re _ . An unseen entity slammed into Dean, and it felt like a linebacker tackled him onto the ground.

Dean inhaled, and started coughing. The force hit him right in the stomach, and though it wasn’t strong enough to thoroughly injure him, it took Dean’s breath away. Rowena then flicked her wrist just  _ so _ , and with another spell, Dean’s sword flew out of its sheath, and started for him. He leapt out of the way just in time, and it embedded itself into a small fissure in the rock. 

Rowena started doing yanking motions with her arms, but nothing happened. Dean raised his hands placatingly. “Steady, I’m not going to hurt you,” Dean reassured. “Please -” He racked his brain quickly. He’d heard her name before. “Rowena. Rowena! Rowena, I’m Dean, I’m a friend of Cas and Gabe -”

Rowena shrieked, and raised her hands once more. She didn’t appear to listen - or maybe even  _ hear _ Dean. Her wild eyes didn’t even seem to see Dean, like she was looking at something just past him. With another incantation, she made a pulling motion, and Dean heard a loud groan behind him. 

Dean dared to turn around, and the gate behind him creaked and squeaked. Fine powder sprayed from the rocks surrounding the gate, and Dean watched cracks appear from the ground and slowly climb up.

“Oh no.” Dean backed away slowly, and turned towards Rowena. “Please, I’m Dean, I’m a friend of Castiel and Gabriel,” he repeated. No response. The ground shook slightly, and Dean could see webs of broken rock climb higher, towards the ceiling. 

He had no choice. Dean stuffed the medallion into a leather belt pocket, straight-up ran at Rowena and tackled her. The ground shaking stopped.

Rowena’s mad screams echoed in the chamber, and she raised her hands to scratch at Dean’s face as she struggled on the ground. She opened her mouth for another spell, but Dean jammed his fist in before she could say anything.

Dean howled, and pulled his bleeding fist back. Rowena had bit him. “Please don’t make me kill you,” Dean said, as he tried to find something else to stuff into the mage’s mouth. He shoved his arm into the woman’s mouth, which she immediately bit, and Dean leaned his whole body into his arm to make her let go. As he did so, he groped along on the floor for anything to replace his agonized arm. 

His fingers happened upon a metal, circular object, and Dean raised it in front of Rowena’s face.

It was like time stopped. Rowena stopped struggling, and focused her eyes on what Dean held. The dungeon suddenly went quiet, and the medallion cast an eerie, red glow onto Rowena’s face. The medallion pulsed once, then twice, as if it recognized the person in front of it.

Dean could see the whites of her eyes again, and she tapped on Dean’s arm. Dean immediately pulled back his arm, and jumped back, still clutching the medallion.

“That sarding bastard!” Rowena screamed into the ceiling. “Did I hurt you?” She asked, extending a hand towards Dean. “Come closer, let me see. I’m not going to bite.”   
  
“You already did,” Dean said, but still drew forward. “Other than this, and my fist, I’m good.”

She exhaled, and said a quick word Dean didn’t catch, and with a wave of her hand, Dean’s wounds disappeared.

“I’m sorry dear, someone did something to me,” Rowena explained. She brushed her dress off, and ran fingers through her hair to try and tame it.

“Luca?”

“Yes,” Rowena said. “You must be Dean!” She exclaimed. She moved forward carefully, as if trying not to startle Dean. She patted his hands and gently took the medallion from him before Dean could even understand what was happening. “Let me get that from you darling, keep it in a safe spot.” She closed the portal with a tiny hand wiggle, and held out a hand for Dean to shake. “Rowena, royal mage to Aetherys. I trust you have been taking care of my Castiel?”

“Your Castiel?” Dean said, a little dumb-founded. He thought she was  _ Gabriel’s _ , wasn’t she?

“I’m just so fond of the boy - I’ve seen him grow up into a fine young man,” Rowena clarified. “I have been trying to push you both along ever so slightly as I watched the two princes from my tower. You enjoyed the songs, did you not?”

“I… that was you?”

Rowena smiled, and patted Dean on the head. “Yes, dear, that was me.”

Dean’s eyes widened. Holy shit, maybe Missouri  _ did have powers _ after all! “You’re the one guarding Castiel.”

“More or less, I do try,” Rowena said. “Then Luca found a way into my office and got his hands on something dark to try and use me. After that, I wasn’t able to look after you all as much.”

“That’s why the songs stopped,” Dean realized. “I did wonder.”

“Of course, I also look into how his brother is doing, seeing as he is mine, after all,” she said with a coy smile. “Gabriel had found something so pretty when I was away, I hope he’ll allow me to join in.”

“Nevermind that!” Dean then exclaimed. What was he doing, chatting? Castiel needed them. “Luca is trying to kill them. He’s in  _ my world _ burning everything he can down.”

“And you left them alone?”

“I’m a carpenter, not a magical knight from another realm!” 

Rowena tsked, and opened her right palm. The medallion started glowing, and she covered it with her other hand. She then flicked her left hand out, as if she was throwing out the magic in front of her.

The portal opened with a quick flash of light. If she didn’t need any of those ritualistic movements, then she must be very powerful, Dean thought. Or maybe it was simply because she owned the thing and knew how to use it.

They jumped through. Dean broke into a run towards the clearing in the distance, the sunlight streaming through the trees punctuated by flashing of bright orange.

Fire.

“There!” Dean shouted, pointing towards the area. 

Rowena was already ahead of him. Dean dashed as fast as he could, jumping over one large root as he broke into the clearing.

The first thing he saw was Castiel lying on the grass, with Gabriel kneeling at his side. Dean rushed over, sliding over the grass as he went. The ground beneath him was crushed and the grass was flattened - there were deep indentations flanking Castiel, and Dean made sure to avoid them so he didn’t trip over his prince. Castiel was curled on his side. “Cas.” He breathed. Gabriel looked up at him, face pale, blood covering half of his face. 

Dean’s eyes widened. “Shit, Gabe, are you okay?” Dean asked.

“Head wound’s a bleeder, is all. Cas is worse off,” Gabriel said. His hands opened and closed on the top of his lap helplessly. “Can’t touch him, too - ‘fraid I’ll do more damage. Luca’s tail caught him and slammed him to the ground, and pressed down with his paw, to boot.

“He kept screaming about getting the damn throne, Dean. He’s gone completely insane.”

Dean held a hand over Castiel’s nose, just to see for himself that the man  _ was  _ still breathing. His chest was barely rising, and Dean bit his lip, uncertain of what he was meant to do. 

“Rowena,” Dean realized, and Gabriel looked up in surprise. It seemed that it was just now that he realized why Luca had stopped attacking. Gabriel’s eyes widened. If his face could have been any more paler, Dean was sure it would’ve. 

“But I thought…”

“Nope, the fucker just imprisoned her in a damn tower like a Disney princess and put a curse on her,” said Dean. He turned to Rowena, whose arms were raised as she redirected the fire raining down on her upward, back into Luca’s face. “Castiel’s hurt!”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit busy here!” Rowena yelled back. She jerked her hands to the side, then pulled down in one quick motion. 

Luca’s hulking mass crashed on the ground beside her. Rowena started chanting, waving her hands as if she was tying something down, and with a flash of red light in her eyes, Luca started to change. There was a deafening screech coming from the dragon before them, as if agonized, and slowly it morphed into a human scream as Luca was forcibly changed back. 

“How did you get out? That tower was protected! I took your medallion from you!”

Dean coughed to get his attention, and waggled his fingers as Luca turned. “You should take better care of your shit,” Dean said. “It’s LARP 101.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Luca said. Dean gulped. The man didn’t growl. He didn’t even sound  _ mad _ . He said it so plainly that Dean believed him. 

Gabriel yelled in alarm, and started to push Castiel on to his back. “What are you doing!” Dean said in alarm. 

“Pulse’s gone!” Gabriel answered. “Need CPR!”   


In the background, Dean could hear Rowena shout, but all of Dean’s attention was on Castiel. He felt like he was moving through water slowly as he took the position, putting his hands together in order to pump Castiel’s chest.    
  
He was jerked out of his concentration when Rowena put a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, let me. You take care of him,” Rowena said, pointing a finger at Luca. “I’ve tied down his power for a short while.”

“Will do,” Dean said with a snarl, and stalked over to the panting man. Luca’s arms bled with multiple shallow cuts, and Dean could see a large bruise forming on the man’s cheek and lower jaw. His tunic and trousers were ripped as well, and Dean could see a sizable stab wound into the man’s thigh. Dean didn’t know how to use a sword very well, and didn’t even bother with it.

But he knew how to fight with his fists. Dean punched Luca in the jaw, right in the center of the bruise.

The evil prince staggered and yelled. “You would hit a wounded man? You are a coward!”

“Better me a coward and you dead,” Dean said, giving him another punch to the gut. Luca staggered. He then snarled, and barreled towards Dean. It was almost a perfect cut block, and Dean went down with a huff. With Luca on top of him, Dean was at a disadvantage, but it was hardly his first time in a brawl.

Besides, with how Luca fought, with the punches he was attempting against Dean, it was obvious he had never been in a bar fight before.

Dean kicked him in the nuts, making the other man howl and fall on his side. Dean got up and kicked him in the thigh, right where he remembered seeing a stab wound. Luca screeched, and he swept out an arm, grabbed Dean’s leg, and pulled hard. Dean crashed into the grass

Wait, how could Luca have grabbed his leg from that position? Dean could still feel him wrapped around his ankle!

Dean sat up, and saw a tentacle grasping onto him for dear life. He glanced at Luca, who grinned triumphantly at him.

His power was returning. Rowena wasn’t kidding when she said it was only for a short while. Dean rolled over, and stomped on Luca’s not-arm with his other foot, then scrambled away when Luca howled. The other man held his arm close to him - it seems that if you stomped on an arm-turned-tentacle, you’re going to break the damn thing. The human body, after all, still had a skeleton.

Dean’s eyes swept the field, looking for anything he could use as a weapon, to end this once and for all. There was Castiel’s sword a few feet away, and Dean leapt for it. 

Luca got to it first with a tail, and yanked it further away. Dean growled, and changed his trajectory, leaping for Luca and aiming for his broken arm. Luca leapt forward as well. His legs were now long, furry, and brown with the powerful muscles of the kangaroo, and the kick connected. Dean was sure he heard something pop and crack when he flew back, crashing behind Rowena. 

“You okay, dear?” Rowena asked absently. Dean could see her hands glow in the periphery of his vision as she worked.   


“Never better,” Dean groaned. He tried standing up, but one of his legs refused to cooperate. Dean couldn’t feel anything painful, however - he couldn’t tell if that was the adrenaline, or if he was going into shock. 

“I can’t stand up,” he murmured to himself in disbelief. He’d heard stories about how strong kangaroos are, and in the back of his mind, he couldn’t believe he got kicked by a half-human one. Dean could see Luca approach him, his movements slow, but steady.

Luca knew he’d won. 

Dean glanced at Castiel. Rowena was still hard at work, but Dean could tell that she was worried. He figured that she couldn’t stop whatever she was doing, as she made no move to defend any of them. 

“Castiel is going to die,” Luca said. “Then, I would kill Gabriel with a flick of a dragon’s finger. After that, I will take care of you,  _ Ragana _ Rowena, and Aetherys will be mine.” His tone was sure, even as he hobbled towards Dean. “But you,” he growled, and spat into the dirt. “You’re nobody. Just be thankful that you get to die before Castiel. You wouldn’t want to see him hurt  _ more _ , would you?”

Dean pushed himself backwards using one leg, but only ended up wiggling sideways, a little more towards Castiel. His forehead broke into cold sweat as he jostled his hip and his upper leg, feeling fire bloom down his leg and up his torso, and he gritted his teeth in agony. He groped around, hoping to find a weapon,  _ any weapon _ , to use against the maniac in front of him, but there was nothing, and Luca was close.

Dean’s fingers bumped Castiel’s hand, and he squeezed it hard to say goodbye.

Then he felt something cold and hard form under his fingers.

He yanked it towards him, just as Luca transformed into a mountain lion, and pounced. Dean screamed, and it was all over.

The mountain lion disappeared, and in its place was a shocked Luca, blood streaming out of the corner of his mouth. “Impossible,” he whispered, and looked down at the  _ Yolcham _ buried in his chest.

“Well fuck you too,” Dean said, and pushed the man off of him as he staggered. Dean yelled as Luca’s fall jostled his leg once more, and the last thing he saw was Gabriel, looking down at him worriedly, before everything went dark.


	13. Epilogue

The day was clear. There were no clouds in the sky, just the sun beating down mercilessly on Dean as he limped across the field. It was a pain moving around in crutches, especially on something so uneven, but he had to do this, for his peace of mind. “I’m sorry it had to end this way, really,” Dean said with a sigh. He tapped the headstone, and sighed. “I wish I knew more about you, in order to understand what happened. But to the end, you were a fucking bastard.”

“He’s dead, Dean, you don’t have to save me from him anymore.”

Dean grinned, and turned around. “Hello, Dean,” Castiel said. He wore a pair of soft slacks and a button up, and managed to look kingly even in his simple attire. Dean reached out for his hand, and gingerly grasped it, well aware of the swathes of bandages under the sleeve.

“Oh, you’re here too,” Dean tossed in Gabriel’s direction, waving a hand at him. 

“Only got eyes for your man, typical,” Gabriel grumbled, as he moved forward to join the two as they looked at Luca’s plot. He carried a bag with a pot of yellow carnations in one hand, and dropped them as he stood in front of the headstone. He crouched down, and winced at the bandaged wound on his forehead. “It was a great choice to just leave him here. Who knows what shit would ensue if we brought him home.”

“Telling everyone about his treachery was not an easy feat,” Castiel said. “There is still, how did you phrase it Dean? Internal cleansing? To be done.”

“I believe I used the term, ‘rectal douching’,” Dean said with a slight grin.

Gabriel broke out into a laugh, and Castiel side-eyed him. “Ah, yes, I remember disagreeing with you, and we had a lengthy talk about how politics will be part of your life if you lived with me.”

“And I remember how I distracted you by calling you  _ my king,  _ and asking if you wanted your consort to-”

Gabriel coughed as loudly as he possibly could, and Dean grinned at him. “I’ll stop, I’ll stop!”

“You two are disgusting,” Gabriel said with a frown. He leaned down, and gently dug a hole in the earth. He carefully took out the plant from its pot and replanted it in the soil. “Yellow carnations, really, Dean? We shouldn’t have assigned you to buy the damn plant.”

“I thought it was apt!”

“It’s inappropriate, at best,” Castiel murmured, eyeing the flowers. “Disdain, rejection, and disappointment. You could not have sent a clearer message.”

“No one else would know what that means, not in this world, believe me. And if they did, well, sorry, but your brother was a-”

“Dick,” Castiel and Gabriel said at the same time. Gabriel winked at Castiel, while the other grimaced.

“We know,” Gabriel quipped, while Castiel continued, “You have said several times.”

“You are creepy when you’re together sometimes, do you know that?” Dean observed, then turned back to the planted flowers. “At least it still looks pretty.”

“It does,” Castiel agreed. “Well then. I have to get back to Aetherys and prepare for tomorrow’s coronation.”

“I’m still invited, aren’t I?” Gabriel asked jokingly, but Dean could hear a serious question under his jovial tone. 

“Of course you are,” Castiel said. “Just because you gave up your claim to the throne doesn’t mean you’re still not an Aetherys Prince, by blood and by heart.”

“I’m bringing a date, maybe two,” Gabriel said.

“How are Rowena and Kali?” Dean asked. “Tell me they’re ganging up on you as much as I can imagine.”

Gabriel hummed slightly. “I won’t call it  _ ganging up  _ as much as sandwi-”

“No,” Castiel said immediately. “We are not talking about Gabriel’s sex life.”

“No one is talking about Gabriel’s sex life,” Dean said, elbowing Castiel as much as he dared on crutches.

Gabriel shrugged. “We’re just talking about how they both -”

“Zip it,” Castiel cut him off, and then patted him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m glad it worked out between the three of you.”

“I know, brother,” Gabriel agreed with a soft smile on his face. “I’m happy. Rowena’s pretty busy preparing for your coronation, but Kali and I will meet her there tomorrow.” 

He then tapped on Luca’s gravestone, and sighed. “I don’t know where it all went wrong - maybe you really were just an asshole and I just didn’t know it,” Gabriel said. “You really did fuck with an important part of my life. I’m just glad Rowena is safe, or else I probably would have desecrated your grave,” Gabriel chuckled mirthlessly. 

“But you were still my brother, and you were good until you weren’t.” Gabriel stepped away, and left Castiel and Dean standing in front of the gravestone. 

“Have I told you recently that I’m sorry for killing your brother?” Dean said quietly, as he watched Castiel bow silently. 

Castiel looked up at him. “No, but as I told you, I can only thank you for taking the burden away from me. It was necessary, as painful as it is.”

Dean started. “I know I’m just a lowly peasant from another realm -” Castiel opened his mouth in protest, but Dean placed a finger on Castiel’s lips in order to stop him, “- but I’m grateful you still chose me, anyway, despite my lack of faith. You have been nothing but good to me, Cas.”

“Dean, you took me in when I was no one and I had nothing. For that alone I’m forever grateful,” Castiel said as he took Dean’s hand in his. “And you know I love you, Dean Winchester.” 

“I love you too,” Dean answered, and he leaned in. Castiel met him with a chaste, sweet kiss, one hand supporting Dean’s jaw, and the other hovering around Dean’s shoulder, ready to catch him, just in case. “I suppose you have to return to Aetherys now, huh, and rule your kingdom rightly, justly, and whatever kings are meant to do.”

“I have to Dean, you know it’s my duty,” Castiel whispered. He stroked Dean’s cheek with a hand. 

“Oh, boohoo,” Gabriel yelled from afar. “It’s not like you won’t see each other tomorrow during the ceremony - you have your own goddamn portal in your shop Dean, unlike how I always need to ask Rowena to open one for me.” Gabriel shifted impatiently. “Let’s go already. A bee’s already asked if we can leave so her sisters can come in for the flowers, and it’s getting hot.”

Dean shrugged, and started to inch his way towards Gabriel, as Castiel followed beside him. “I’ll see you soon then?”

“Won’t miss it,” Dean said. “And after that, family dinner at Sam’s?”

Gabriel rubbed his hands together. “Ooooh, truth time. May I join you?”

“No,” Dean and Castiel said at the same time, immediately.

“We don’t need an audience, thanks,” Dean added. “Besides, you’re already coming for Sam’s birthday.”

“We’ll introduce you then, we promise,” Castiel continued. He then raised his hand, and in his palm was a medallion. It was similar to Rowena’s, but instead of an ornate jewel with runes, it was the family crest, with the jewel inlaid somewhere at the top. The runes were engraved on the other side, Dean knew. Castiel simply waved a hand, and a disc of shimmering light opened. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye, Cas,” Dean answered with a smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

(And they lived happily ever after. The End.)


End file.
